Path of the King
by Neoalfa
Summary: "With swords that aren't yours, with skills that aren't yours, for dreams that aren't yours. Your entire existence is a lie!" - "Then I'll show you that even fake dreams can become reality." A different choice, a different path, a different FATE. Shirou/Multi
1. Prologue: Made out of Blades

**Prologue - Made out of Blades**

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><p>Trace On.<p>

Two words. A meaningless waste of breath for anybody but the red haired boy.  
>Two words, that encompassed all of his existence. A trigger for his resolve. A fancy Abracadabra. Nothing more than a self imposed delusion.<p>

Ironically, he was all about delusions. He deluded himself that he could be an Hero. He deluded himself that he could save everyone. Reality, however, wasn't such a wishful thing. Reality trumped over dreams and heroes every minute of every day. He knew it very well. He knew it and he didn't give a damn.

He pushed his bleeding body and stood straight once more. His muscles ached form the strain they had been put through. His wounds bled with renewed vigor. Avalon worked fast, but even Excalibur's Scabbard couldn't keep up with the onslaught caused by countless Noble Phantasms.

'_Trace On.'_

Two words.  
>The greatest delusion.<br>An unrealizable dream.  
>An everdistant utopia.<p>

A smile crept on his face despite the pain.  
>The Sword and the Scabbard couldn't be too different after all, could they? No, in fact they had to mirror each other perfectly in order to fit. Different tools with different purposes yet so very much alike. Was it irony or was it fate that they had met? Never mind. It didn't matter. Regardless of the circumstances there was but one path ahead for him.<p>

He didn't need anything else but those two words to keep on moving. All he ever needed to challenge his true opponent. The only one he couldn't hope to defeat, and the same time, the only one he wasn't allowed to lose against.

Not the blond haired King of Heroes in front of him.  
>Not the immortal demigod that fought for the snow haired girl.<br>Not the priest that had orchestrated this sick scenario.  
>Not the worm filled Head of an ancient family of Magi.<br>Not the many phenomenon that had been evoked for that pointless war.  
>No one else but himself.<p>

An eternal struggle which ultimate result could only be defeat. Fortunately, someone as distorted as him wouldn't want anything else but an hopeless battle.

It wasn't a war against reality. It was a fight against himself. Against the temptation to give up, to cast away his dreams, to live contenting himself with what little he could manage to save without truly sacrificing anything.

Never. Not even for a single moment he would have acknowledged such a thing.

That single minded conviction, that naïve stubbornness, that resolve was the fulcrum of his flawed existence.

He gritted his teeth, his muscles tightened and his Od flowed through his circuits. The pain had been cast away, the fear crushed, the doubts destroyed. As a human he couldn't hope to win. No human could truly fight against a Servant. But he wasn't just a man anymore.

'_I am the bone of my sword…'_

The Noble Phantasms within the Gate of Babylon shoot toward him as fast as bullets. With the sound of clashing steel their assault was stopped in midair by an equal amounts of identical blades coming from the boy's direction.

'_Iron is my blood and Glass is my Heart…'_

Another salve of weapons went flying in his direction like oversized arrows. Gilgamesh arrogance was his ultimate weakness. Victory was to be achieved on his terms or not at all. He didn't even consider of using Ea, the Sword of Rupture, to deal with the boy. In response Rho Aias sprung into existence, pulled from the Hill of Swords by a nudge of the boy's mind, hopelessly crushing the thrown blades.

'_I have withstood untold pains to create countless weapons…'_

Reality around him began to crack as the boy kept chanting, pushing his own Origin against the World. The King didn't even bother noticing, as it was beneath him to acknowledge someone so low as that Faker as an actual threat.

'_I have walked many battlefields undefeated….'_

As usual the change began from inside him. Wounds closed almost instantly with a metallic noise. If anybody bothered to check it would have been obvious that he hadn't actually healed ,rather he had knitted himself close through minuscule overlapping blades.

'_Not once I have retreated. Nor once I have strayed…'_

His circuits were alight with power. Mana flowed in his body through his contracts. His body was a vessel for power, albeit not in the Servant's league. Not that it mattered. Thaumaturgy was about Will rather than raw strength and he had that in spades.

'_I have no regrets. This is the only path…'_

The world shaped on the boy's beliefs and convictions. Magecraft that bordered Sorcery. The closest thing to a miracle, that he could hope to accomplish with his own limited skills. The reason for his weaknesses and the source of his strength.

'_Certainly this body… is made out of blades…'_

'_My whole life is…. Unlimited Blade Works!'_

Flames enveloped them, drawing the boundaries of his Reality Marble, cutting away the world that didn't accept his beliefs.  
>Flames. Like those that killed him so many years before.<br>Flames. Like those he had been rescued from.  
>Flames that shaped him like the Blade he had chosen to be.<p>

The Hill of Swords opened up before him. In his hands Kanshou and Byakuya, the Blades that were the receptacle of his accumulated experience, glimmered in the light of the sunset, carving for the incoming confrontation between fighters.

"Here I come, King of Heroes. Do you have enough weapons at your disposal?"

He charged forward, ignoring the insults of the Archer Class Servant. Their blades met with a thundering clash of steel and in that single moment of blinding sparks his mind reeled back to the moment when he had begun to walk down this path.

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><p>Author Notes:<p>

So here I go again with yet a new fic. Didn't I have too much on my plate already? Apparently no. So here's my Fate/Stay Night fic. Let me know what you think.

Note: This story is part of my "King's Universe" like my HP Fic "Rise of the Forgotten" and my KP fic "Identities". These fics won't intesect **at all** so don't worry about any odd character from those stories showing up.

PS: I know that the UBW chant is different but this Shirou is not the same as the one depicted canonically. If you want to find out more make sure to stick around.

Don't know when I'll update this. My other fics are my main priority as of now but when I'll get back to this one once I hit writer's block with those stories (which happens more often than not.)

That's all for the time being. Bye.


	2. Through Flames and Ashes

**CHAPTER 1 – THROUGH FLAMES AND ASHES**

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><p>Flames encompassed everything.<br>They burned and consumed the land, raging toward the darkened sky as if cursing it for its distance yet longing for its peacefulness. Screams of pain, anguish and despair filled the air like smoke. Scorched bodies lay on the equally burned ground. A testament to the merciless fury of the fire. Malice saturated the atmosphere like a thick blanket.

In this infernal scenario a single red haired boy stood on shaky legs. Surrounded by devastation he pushed himself forward with heavy steps, toward an uncertain direction and a much more certain death. Every movement brought him a new wave of pain. Every single breath filled his lungs with smoke, burning him from the inside.

Yet, something else burned within him. Something between resolve and defiance. His young mind knew that there was no hope for him, no way to make it out of there alive, but in spite of that knowledge he pushed himself forward just a little more. A challenge to his unavoidable fate.

There was a limit, of course, to how much he could withstand such task. Soon his legs gave in under the effort and he collapsed on the ground among charred bodies twisted by agony.

He barely managed to turn and fall on his side instead of on his face, and then pushed himself to look up at the sky. Smoke and ashes filled occluded the sight of it like a dull ceiling. Despair filled his heart along with burning rage. Without voice he cursed and prayed alternatively, even if though he knew they would reach no one.

But he was wrong. Something had indeed heard his curses and responded accordingly. A chalice filled with malice. A curse given shape and power. A shard of all the world's evils and sins.

It reached for him, a kindred spirit bound by powerlessness. It slipped through the cracks in his body and soul, filling the boy with a portion of his energy. The first step of something akin to a digestive process. Its intention was not to help but to consume; devouring him like the flame that came from it burned the city and its inhabitant.

The boy felt the intrusions with a remote part of his brain. Or was it his soul? He couldn't understand what was happening, nor could he imagine the nature of the blackness that was consuming him. All he knew was the wrongness of it all.

Death, for the scary thing that it is, it's still a natural part of a human existence. The nameless black thing wasn't. Thus the boy knew, even in his ignorance of the world's workings, that the invading feeling was just _wrong_. He struggled. He cursed. He prayed. He didn't want to die, much less he wanted to be swallowed by that thing.

Unbeknownst to him even his prayed had been heard. Or the very least they had been answered.

Light golden and blue washed over him in the same manner of the black malice a few moments prior, chasing away the darkness from within him. It filled and repaired him on levels he couldn't neither describe nor understand. It illuminated something – _somewhere_ - that didn't actually exist yet was a fundamental part of him.

His eyes gazed upon an eternal sunset engraved in a rusty red sky, upon a hill covered by countless blades. Was it a vision of Heaven of Hell? Salvation or damnation? It went as fast as it came, before he could understand it, before he could burn the vision inside his conscious mind. Yet it was still there, somewhere inside him.

He blinked and he was back in Hell again, but this time he wasn't alone. A man with dark, ruffled hair was above him, smiling like he had just found a priceless treasure. Joy filled the man's eyes as he stared down at the boy, and in that moment he realized that he didn't feel pain anymore, and despair left place to a sense of calmness that didn't belong in that place. It was confusing much like everything else up to that moment.

Where had the fear gone? The burning sensation inside his lungs? The pain in his limbs? Was this how death was supposed to be? Or was it something else? Perhaps…

Exhaustion finally caught up with him claiming his mind with blissful unconsciousness. One last thought was spared for the smiling man as realization dawned upon him. Thankfulness, for without a doubt he had just been saved.

* * *

><p>Shirou's eyes snapped open and stared in the blank white in front of him. His body felt numb except for a little sting in his right arm. He had to blink twice before realizing that he was staring at the ceiling of a hospital room. He breathed deeply, filling his lungs with air. The typical smell of medicaments and sterilizers common to every hospital filled his nostril. Shirou could swear he hadn't ever smelled something that wonderful, although the lack of the burning sensation in his throat and chest might have played a big part in that. Tentatively he moved his head to his side meeting the eyes of the man he saw before passing out.<p>

"Thank you," was the first thing he managed to croak out of his sore throat.

"You are welcome," he answered back smiling. The same light as before shone in his eyes. Was it because of him, Shirou wondered. Was it because he was alive? Because he saved him? That happiness, that sense of fulfillment and peace he saw in those orbs was the complete opposite of what he had felt while he walked through flames and ashes. Could he find that too?

"I'm Emiya Kiritsugu. What's your name?" the man asked.

"Shirou…," he trailed off.

"Just Shirou? No family name?"

"I…," Shirou stopped and thought but all he could remember was the raging fire. "I can't remember…. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I'll sort things out," he answered, never losing his smile. Shirou nodded. He trusted Kiritsugu. Why shouldn't he? He closed his eyes and sleep claimed him again.

He opened them an indefinite amount of time later. Panic filled him. Kiritsugu wasn't beside him anymore but his coat was still there so he hadn't left him. He relaxed again and did the only thing he could. Listening to the noises around him. He caught a glimpse of a white coat right outside the door of his room and focused his attention there.

"Unbelievable," he heard a man saying. "He doesn't have a scratch beside that burn on his shoulder. How did he manage to survive in there?"

"I don't know," another voice answered. "Even his lungs don't show any leftovers from the smoke anymore."

"What? His lungs were a mess when he arrived yesterday. He should have undergone several days of treatment just for that. How is that even possible?"

"Your guess his good as mine. He's recuperating faster than anyone I've ever seen. We could release him tomorrow at this rate."

"Perhaps we should keep him a little longer, just to be on the safe side. No sense in wasting a miracle. Besides he was nowhere left to go. His relatives must have perished in the fire. No one is searching for him and he doesn't seem to remember his own family."

"Memory loss from the trauma? It doesn't surprise me. Poor kid. Not only he has lost his family but also his memories of them. He must terrified all alone like that."

"Well he's not totally alone, you know. The man that has rescued him has no intention to leave him by himself. I've heard he already has applied for his adoption in case some relatives fail to turn out."

"Well. That's good to hear. God only knows how much that kid is going to need a parent from now on."

They talked a little more before leaving, but Shirou no longer paid them any attention. His thought were focused on the man that saved him and now wanted to become his father. A little smile formed on his lips and he fell asleep again more relaxed than before.

* * *

><p>In the end no relatives were found and Kiritsugu adopted him like promised. It had been rather easy actually. There were many wounded in the hospital and so many orphans that the usual procedures to find a suitable family were somewhat overlooked. Most of the children were taken in by the church and a few had been adopted in record time. The government was having a hard time finding out the cause of the tragedy and the public opinion wasn't too happy about that. Finding a home for the homeless families and orphan children was a forced priority to save their face.<p>

Thus, Shirou became an Emiya not five days after the incident. His good health conditions allowed him to leave the hospital extremely fast, freeing a bed for someone that needed it more than him.

Before adopting him, Kiritsugu told him something unusual. Something that even as a the child he was he would have dismissed if it came from someone else-

"I'm a wizard," he said without the slightest inflection of humor.

"Okay," Shirou said after a moment. The candor of his answer made Kiritsugu laugh. Count on a child to accept something like that so easily.

They moved in his house immediately after he was released. The Emiya estate was a traditional Japanese building with enough rooms to pass as a hotel. He liked the peaceful atmosphere and settled in without a problem. The neighbors, the Fujimuras were somewhat scary but they gave them no troubles either. The elder Yakuza seemed to respect and even be wary of Kiritsugu whereas his daughter, one Fujimura Taiga, had a crush on Shirou's new father so obvious that even him, seven years old figured it out right away.

Taiga appointed herself as Shirou's elder sister practically as soon as he saw him. The girl was odd at best and batshit crazy at worst, but her good intentions and kind nature were so obvious that Shirou had no trouble accepting her self-appointed role, although he sometime debated with Kiritsugu that she usually acted like a younger brother with her temper tantrums, her tomboyish attitude and her inhuman appetite. She was a downright terror when it came to eating and Shirou had to learn how to cook since she came over for dinner more often than not. Besides whatever Kiritsugu cooked looked (and tasted) like a military ration. Where the hell had he learned to cook that badly?

All in all Shirou's life was pretty good every day. The nights, however, were not as peaceful. Every time he fell asleep he was surrounded by the flames, the corpses and the screams of anguish. From time to time he dreamt of other things as well but they weren't exactly pleasant either.

* * *

><p><em>A tower stood in front of him. Dark. Ominous. He had seen it before, though he couldn't remember where or when. It filled him with **** and *******. Whatever it was its nature was perverse and twisted. He wanted to leave, to turn around and run but his legs were frozen. All he could do was watch it. And being watched in return.<br>It was alive. He knew as much. He could almost see ****** floating in the dark sphere that hovered above it. It had no eyes but it looked at Shirou like he had been denied. Shirou knew, if it had a mouth it would speak, and its words would have been dark curses for it was ***** ****. Its existence was hate. Its purpose was *******. Given the chance it would reach out and ***** him apart, ******* his mind, ******* his soul. If it only had the chance…._

* * *

><p>Every time he woke from that dream he almost wanted to be back in the fire. He told Kiritsugu about it and they sought the help of a specialist without any result. Shirou was pretty much used and resigned to have very little sleep every night and his grim predictions turned out to be accurate until a few weeks later something happened that pushed him down a path he had already begun walking.<p>

It happened a few months after the tragedy. He was walking back home from school like every other children his age, cutting through a small park like he did every morning. It was usually deserted at that hour and Shirou never stopped there before. This time however he was forced to stop when he heard someone shout. Out of curiosity he looked for the source of the sound and stumbled upon a group of four kids around his age surrounding a girl with purple hair. She was on the ground, her face streaked with tears, but her expression was distant and unfocused, almost detached from her current predicament.

"She isn't reacting at all. This is not even fun," commented one of them

"Try pulling her hair."

"No. Let's put some mud on her face."

She didn't react even while the boys debated how to bully her further. Shirou, on the other hand, felt a scorching sensation inside his gut that robbed him of all conscious thoughts. When his brain connected again two of the boys were already on the ground holding their bleeding noses.

"Leave her alone!" he shouted.

Perhaps in different circumstances they would have run, but their numeric superiority gave them enough courage to stay and retaliate against him. Far from being skilled in combat, Shirou found himself on the receiving end of a nasty beating, but he wasn't the one to being defeated that day.

He refused to go down, forcing his legs upright, opening his arms wide as to create a wall between them and the girl behind him. Compared to the fire, that pain was nothing. By the end of it he was bleeding from the mouth and his clothes were dirty and there were more than a few bruise already forming on his arms.

"What's wrong with this freak? Come on, let's go. This guy's crazy," one boy said sounding a little unsettled by the display. They left in a hurry, shooting glances at their back in case Shirou tried to follow them and strike from behind, but he simply stood there, arms wide until they were out of sight.

"Are you all right?" he asked turning around and offering his hand to girl. She stared at the foreign appendage like something alien before raising her eyes to meet his. She stared for some time before accepting his hand and standing back up with his help. "Are you all right?" He asked again. She blinked shaking away the faraway look in her eyes.

"Ah. Yes," she replied with a soft voice.

"Thank goodness. What's wrong with those guys? Picking on a girl like you. Who do they think they are?"

"… It happens sometimes. It's nothing." she said never removing her eyes from his.

"It's not nothing," he replied a little unnerved from her constant stare. Was there something on his face? "Hey, if those guys give try something like that ever again, just tell me and I'll teach them a lesson."

"But they'll hurt you again…" she whispered.

"What? You're kidding, right? This is nothing. Ugh!" he tapped his chest proudly and then winced at the pain it brought forth. "All right, maybe that hurts a bit," he laughed. It was like a spell had been broken and she laughed with him, with a look of surprise on her face like she didn't remember ever doing it before. Shirou watched her with amusement. There was something heartwarming about her laugh. Something that lifted the sprit.

"Thank you for helping me. I'm Matou Sakura, pleased to meet you" she introduced herself offering her hand once she regained control of her breathing.

"Emiya… Shirou," he stuttered back, hypnotized by the small smile she was showing him. "Please to you meet you too."

They walked together to his place. Kiritsugu was surprised to see Shirou bringing home a friend but welcomed Sakura nonetheless, regardless of the condition of their clothing and the evident bruises on Shirou's face. He could question him later. He was a little more surprised when he discovered her last name but didn't address the issue in her presence. Later, when Taiga joined them after school, Shirou saw her shooting glances in his directions before whispering something in Kiritsugu ears. They both looked at them and snickered.

They spent a pleasant afternoon and evening together after informing her parents of what had happened. Taiga borrowed Sakura some of clothes from when she was a kid since she couldn't remain in her dirty clothes all day. After dinner, Taiga offered to escort her back home since Kiritsugu was feeling a little ill and Shirou was still too young to go around the town at night.

"Am not!" He argued.

"Are too! Come now, Sakura-chan. Say goodbye to Shirou-chan."

She did just that. Well not _just_ that. When she was close enough she planted a soft kiss on his cheek whispering a soft "Thank you," before scurrying away without meeting his eyes. Taiga looked at the exchange with a hand in front of her mouth, hiding a grin. Her eyes, however, betrayed her amusement. Kiritsugu didn't put the same amount of effort and simply laughed at Shirou dumbfounded expression.

That night, after replaying the day's events in his mind while resting in his futon he fell asleep without fearing his nightmares. Needless to say he slept like a log for the very first night in a long while. It wasn't, however, a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p><em>He was surrounded by blades in all shapes and sizes. They covered the arid ground all the way to the horizon. Yet, no matter how hardly he looked at them, they were blurred or perhaps he just couldn't ********* them. The sunset shone on them, reflecting ominously on their sharp edges. Shirou was confused. He recognized that place but he didn't know where it was. In the distance he could hear the noise of metal hitting and grinding against metal, like a forge working relentlessly to produce even more blades. He should have been freaked, perhaps even scared at the sight, but unlike his other dreams, all he could feel was a sense of rightness and his own excitement. This place was ********* ***** ******. It was right there ******* him. No, the place was ****** ***self. It was confusing, yet perfectly natural. Blade filled his sight. Blades filled his s***. His whole body was **** *** ** blades.<em>

* * *

><p>"I'm proud of you Shirou," Kiritsugu said. "Sakura explained me what you did for her."<p>

"Ah. Yes. I just couldn't let something like that happen in front of my eyes and do nothing to stop it."

"I understand," he paused. "You know? When I was your age I wanted to be a superhero. But then things happened and I couldn't believe in that dream anymore?"

Shirou watched his father pensive expression. It looked a lot like Sakura's when she was being bullied. It was the kind of expression of someone who had lost his faith in life. Then he remembered the smiles, both his father's and Sakura's. The smile of someone who saves and is saved in return.

In that very moment Shirou had an epiphany and the words rolled out of his mouth with naturalness. "Don't worry dad. I'll become a hero in your place," he stated in a confident voice.

Kiritsugu chuckled at his son's antics for a moment before meeting his eyes again. What he saw in there…. Determination. Convintion.

"Shirou," he began his more serious than his son had ever heard. "Do you want me to teach you? Magic, that is?"

They stared at each other silently for a long time before Shirou nodded, slowly but certainly. _'To be a Magus is to walk with Death'_, his father had told him when he explained him some of his background. For him to make him such an offer was proof of how seriously he was taking his words.

Shirou knew that he had probably signed up for the greatest challenge of his life, but the memory of Sakura's smile in the back of his head gave him more than enough reason to live up to his word.

* * *

><p><span>FIVE YEARS LATER…<span>

Emiya Shirou stared at the lifeless body of the man that had become his father. Emiya Kiritsugu had passed away with a serene smile on his lips, seated comfortably on his house's patio under the starred summer sky.

Tears streamed down Shirou's face. For a long time he knew that his father was going to die due to the curse place upon him by the corrupted Holy Grail but it didn't make it any easier for him. He just sat there, enjoying the last moments on Earth with him, pondering his passing words.

"_Don't worry dad. I'll become a person capable of saving everyone in you place," he told him, restating his first promise._

"_Is that so? I'm relieved then. I'll leave things in your hands but remember, you can't save anyone if you don't save yourself first. If you just throw your life away like I did nothing will be truly accomplished. Promise me Shirou. Don't forget to save yourself."_

He had promised, even though he didn't understand why he asked such a thing. He had already been saved once. Surely it was now his turn to save others. That purpose was the only thing that suppressed the guilt of having survived whereas others did not. Of course he wasn't just going to throw his life away, but wasn't a hero supposed to put other people lives before his own? He didn't understand, but he promised anyway, unable to argue with his father in his last moments of life. He could figure out the meaning behind his words afterwards.

Emiya Kiritsugu passing smile was one of accomplishment, after a lifetime of failures. Shirou couldn't help but notice with his tears-blurred vision that his expression was similar to the one he wore when he first saw him admits the flames. A smile of Salvation.

… Had he been saved again from some peril he couldn't even see yet? He wondered. Certainly there would be enough chances to figure out the answer as he lived up to his initial promise.

* * *

><p><strong>Author notes:<strong> so here we are with the second chapter. It's completely different from how I had first written it. It actually started with Kiritsugu's death because I didn't want to write Shirou's well known background, showing the differences I've envisioned through flashbacks. Anyway here it is. The grail war is still a few chapters away and by then Shirou will be a lot different from canon skill-wise.

I always thought that for someone who wanted to be a hero so badly, Shirou did very little to achieve that until he found his ass dragged in the war, and by then it was nearly useless. And I'm not talking only about his talent as a Magus but his overall fighting ability. He was good with a bow but he basically never applied it in combat. Not this time. He will still be a talentless Magus but that doesn't mean he won't put the effort to improve in the field and many others as well. He won't be Servant level and Rin will still be capable of whipping the floor with him in a purely magical contest but only there. Chapter is basically written from some scraps of this and the next which means I'll be updating again rather soon. I'll try to keep at least a bi-weekly update rate but no promises.

I sincerely hope you like this chapter. I'll be looking forward to your reviews. Thank you and goodbye.


	3. Just an Archer

**CHAPTER 2 – JUST AN ARCHER**

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><p><span>THREE YEARS LATER…<span>

Tohsaka Rin was in a pinch.  
>She was walking home with a few female schoolmates for a study session for the upcoming midterm exams. Not that she needed any help with her schoolwork. She was at the top of her age group academically, followed closely by the president of the student's council Issei-san and another unremarkable boy, Emiya-san, the fake janitor as he was called nowadays for his inclination generally helpful to everyone, going as far as taking care of repairs of school appliances. In a sense those two were part of the reason for her current situation. Those two, busy as they were with their respective commitments, managed to keep up with her in school with little apparent effort. It grated on her nerves even though she had her own business to attend beyond school as well.<p>

Still, she couldn't use that as an excuse with his schoolmates, since she couldn't exactly tell then she was a Magus, nor with herself, especially where the Emiya boy was involved. Lately she had learned that he was not only an orphan who lived on his own, but he also had a part time job somewhere in town. That fact by itself couldn't be enough to annoy her, since she knew firsthand how difficult it was being without parents. No what grated on her nerves was the he didn't do it out of need but out of principle. Apparently the boy didn't want to live relying on what his family had left him and set himself to gain his own living.

That fact, paired with his apparent ability to give her a run for her money academically was enough to ignite her competitive streak and tag him as her school rival. If he could excel at school while helping others and while having a work she couldn't do any less. Besides her carefully crafted public image would suffer if she denied a direct request for help from her classmates. School idols have a reputation to uphold after all.

They spent most of the afternoon after classes at school, revising the material that was more likely to come up in the exams. Time came up short though and they had to continue their study session elsewhere. Tohsaka's place was the best choice seeing that she lived alone and they began walking there chatting animatedly.

Fuyuki city was generally considered by its inhabitant a rather safe place, despite the unusual and unexplainable events that took place from time to time. Criminality wasn't a concern either since most of the unsavory individuals run their shady business leaving the law abiding citizen mostly alone. That didn't mean that walking down desert streets in the evening was considered a safe thing to do, especially for what looked like a group of defenseless girls.

That was the crux of Tohsaka problem. Following one her friends' suggestion they had cut through a rather dark alley, something even small children were advised not to do. Tohsaka expressed her concern of course, but the rest of the group waved it off nonchalantly. That was Fuyuki city. Nothing ever happened there.

'_So,' _She sighed inwardly as she looked the scene around her unfold,_ "why are we surrounded by five men whose idea of fun involves a lack of clothing on our part?_' She wanted to ask of her now frightened schoolmates. Why did people choose to ignore wise advices until it was too late?

"Ah, come on kittens," one of the man said. "Don't be scared. We ain't gonna hurt you. Well… it might hurt at first, but it gets better after a while," he chuckled at his own joke.

"You're preaching to the choir, dude. I'm sure these chicks have seen more than enough of a man up close."

"Ah ah ah," another one laughed. "You're probably right. School girls these days are probably loose as a pro."

"Nah. These looks still pretty fresh to me," the fourth commented. "Maybe their cherries are already popped, but I'm sure there are still tight enough for a night of fun."

"How about we cut this shit and find out for real, hm?" the first one asked.

"If you touch any of us," Tohsaka growled, "you are going to regret it."  
>She actually could wipe the floor with those guys, but that meant using her thaumaturgy and exposing her nature as a Magus to her classmates. She wasn't sure she could deal with all five of them before one managed to hurt one of her friends. Even though she could hypnotize them afterwards and erase their memories, she couldn't be certain she could do it without anyone being harmed before or slipping away before she was done. If anyone managed to escape her, and reveal the existence of magic, she was going to get in big troubles with the Association, not to speak of the blow on her reputation as guardian on the land.<p>

She bit her lip in frustration. No matter how much she thought about it she couldn't come up with a foolproof plan to keep her friends safe and not expose her secrets. For all the wrong reason the thug interpreted the uncertainty in her eyes as the proof of her already obvious bluff.

"And who's going to make me regret it little lady? You?" He asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"Maybe she won't," a previously unheard voice stated. "But I will."

The man had barely time to shift his gaze from Rin to the speaker when something impacted right between his eyes with a loud _thwack. _The man tumbled backward while all the presents turned to face the newcomer.

He stood at the end of the ally, completely dress in black clothing. The upper part of his face down to his nose was hidden behind a mask of the same color, his hairs where equally hidden by a hood which casted ominous shadows on what little was visible of his eyes. In his hands was a strangely shaped bow again of the same color. For all means and purpose he could have been just another shadow.  
>A shadow that took human shape and descended upon the wicked to account them for their sins. Black as the night, dark as a nightmare. It was hard to believe he was tall as a boy in his teen and from the sound of his voice just as old.<p>

"What the fuck? The hell are you?" one of the men asked. His answer came in the shape of an arrow again between his eyes.

"YOU FUCKING BRAT!" the closest to the masked boy shouted, closing the distance between them. One step and man was right on him, fist cocked to deliver what looked like powerful punch. Tohsaka couldn't see it from where she was, but the man smirked knowing that he had the advantage of size at such a close range. He didn't leave the boy time to draw another arrow to his bow. He never even realized he didn't need it at all

The man swung his fist and the bow went flying high above his head. His fist, however, went through empty space, missing his target entirely. The boy had thrown his weapon of choice in the air and ducked under the man's powerful sideway swing.

Fast as lightning the boy's right fist struck the much bigger man in his nether regions. With expectable results. The injured man hadn't time to contemplate his pain for long as the boy struck again with a blow that seemed to miss the man's face at first but curved at the right moment to hit him almost from behind. He collapsed, presumably unconscious, without as much as a grunt.

The boy was far from having finished however. Before anyone could react, and before the unconscious man had actually hit the ground, the shadow-clad figure sprung in action again, dashing toward the fourth thug. Perceiving the incoming threat the man raised his guard, ready to face whatever the boy might throw at him. It was again a fatal mistake. Five steps away for him the boys snatched his falling bow in midair with his right hand, an arrow at the ready in his left.

The man's eyes had barely time to widen in realization before he was struck in his jewels, shattering his guard among other things, just before another arrow connected with his forehead.

The fifth rapist wannabe had finally wised up and spun on his heels to flee the scene. He didn't complete the fourth step when yet another arrow it him behind his head.

The loud _thud_ of his face hitting the ground signaled the end of the confrontation giving reign to a dumbfounded silence on the girls' part. The nameless archer, on the other hand, cautiously walked to one of his victim to another, checking their vitals and retrieving something from the ground.

Tohsaka shifted slightly, ready to engage this clearly more dangerous individual if his intention for helping them were less than noble.

"Y.. you killed them…" One of the girls, Ayane Sengou, stuttered frozen by shock.

"They're alive," Tohsaka answered. Ayane and the rest of the girls turned to her. "Look," she said holding one of the arrows she picked on the ground. Instead of pointed head the arrow had a thick metal ball. A blunt weapon instead of a piercing one. "You can't kill anyone with these."

"Of course," the boy spoke. "I'm no murderer." He walked to her and picked the arrow from her hands putting it back into his quiver. Their eyes met for a moment and the girl took the chance to scan their depth for any ulterior motive, ignoring the sudden surge of heat to her face. Finding only clear pools of green she relaxed and eased her pose.

"The streets aren't safe at night for girls like you. My advice is to stay away from places like these even during the day. This is a quiet city if you don't go looking for trouble."

"Like you do?" Rin spoke in defiance. Her more aggressive persona had been brought to the surface by the recent events and the boy's protective attitude didn't put her pride to rest either. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. _'But not of those around you.' _She thought. '_If he hadn't come could you have helped your friends by yourself?' _A grimace formed on her face at those thoughts. The boy chuckle however brought her out of her funk.

"Perhaps I'm not the best example of what I preach. My points remain valid, though. Whatever… You all have a cell phone right? Please call the police. I'll be going." He spun on his heels and walked in the direction he came from. The shadows of the alley had almost swallowed him when she called back at him.

"Wait a moment! Who are you?"

He stopped and turned sideways, just enough to look back at her.

"I'm just an Archer," and then he stepped forward and disappeared in the darkness.

"A… Archer?" Ayane stuttered.

"T.. the Archer?" another one spoke in awe. "You mean he's real?"

"Duh! Of course he is."

In that moment Tohsaka understood what her friends were talking about. She had heard about it before. It had been a passing topic of conversation in school like any other urban myth. The Archer. A lonely figure that stalked the streets of Fuyuki at night watching over the innocents and punishing the criminals. A few arrests of small gangs that were suspect of dealing drugs were attributed to him at least partly. According to the rumors the police intervened after receiving an anonymous tip only to found the whole gang unconscious and bound with enough proofs scattered around to makes charges stick, sending the entire lot behind bars for a long time.

Of course she hadn't paid any attention to such things before. There were countless of such rumors running around and they never lasted enough to bother. Yet the myth stared her in the eyes that night, emerging from the darkness in their time on need and disappearing immediately after without asking or even expecting any reward for his deeds. He was just like one of those heroes in the manga her schoolmates liked to read, or a knight from the tales her father used to read her before falling asleep.

Whoever he was the boy was a mystery. His identity, his skills and his motives where all shrouded in darkness and she coulnd't help but mulling them over and over again inside her head, asking herself why her heart didn't stop hammering inside since the moment when the Archer stared in her eyes from up close.

The police arrived not ten minutes later, questioned the girls, and proceed to escort the _gentlemen_ away. The detective in charge released a powerful sigh as he talked with a colleague. Tohsaka reinforced her hearing with magic and eavesdropped from afar.

"So the Archer strikes again, huh, Dojima-senpai?" the younger detective spoke

"I don't like the tone of admiration in your voice, Adachi," the older man grumbled.

"Eh? Ah well, you know Senpai. I grew up reading stories of heroes of justice when I was a kid. I wanted to be one so badly that I ended doing this job."

"Who gives a damn about that, dumbass. This ain't no friggin' manga. There's a child running around at night, carrying weapons, putting himself in danger and putting us to shame. Chief's going to bite our heads off for this."

"Why? How is this our fault? It's not like we put the kid up to it," he was rewarded with a smack on the back of his head.

"So what if isn't our fault? It's still our duty to capture criminals and keeps children away from harm. This whole Archer business is a blow in our face and pride. What are the people going to think if they knew a kid is doing our job and fooling us for over a year?"

"You didn't have to hit so hard Senpai," Adachi groaned.

They bantered back and forth but when it was clear they weren't going to discuss any other useful information Tohsaka tuned them out and rejoined their friends. It was obvious that there wasn't going to be any more studying for the evening. The latest events were too shocking to let them focus on anything else. They were escorted back home by the police, who had to reassure their parents their daughters were fine and in no trouble at all.

Tohsaka was the last to be brought back since she didn't have any family waiting for her. And she spent the whole trip wondering about the mysterious Archer. Whoever he was, he clearly was running amok on her territory. As the Magus in charge of that part of town it was her duty to keep her ears open even if the boy's actions as a non-Magus weren't necessarily her responsibility. She spared no little amount of time convincing herself that her interest was purely professional.

* * *

><p>The following morning everyone was talking about Archer. While many already believed he existed, no one really had a close encounter with him before that. The gossip spread like a wildfire even reaching the student council's president Issei Ryuudou who was eating lunch with his trusted friend Shirou.<p>

"The school seems to be in an uproar today," he stated as calmly as usual. Issei was the kind of person that never lost his cool, even under pressure and dealing with trouble teenagers on a daily basis only reinforced that trait.

"Yeah," Shirou agreed. "Have you heard the news?"

"About that Archer fellow? I would have to be deaf not to have heard. Everyone's talking about it."

"You don't seem to like it," he pointed out.

"That would be because I don't," he answered coolly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Don't get me wrong. It's heartening that someone our age his willing to stand up for the weak, but it's not his place to do that. It's the police job to keep the citizens safe."

"But if he wasn't there yesterday our schoolmates would have been…"

"I know," Issei said defensively holding up his hand. "I'm not questioning his actions, mind you. I'm just afraid someone might try to emulate him and put himself in trouble," he said leveling a stare at Shirou. Even he wasn't dense enough to miss its meaning.

"What? Do you think I'd do something like that?"

"Actually, if it wasn't for the fact that I can't imagine you coming out of a fight on top, I would have said you were this infamous Archer."

"W-what?" Shirou sputtered. "Why would you think that?"

"Oh I wouldn't know. Partly because you are around his presumed age, because you are in the archery club, but mostly because you have more sense of justice than common sense."

"Come on! I'm not that bad," he protested.

"No? Only in the past two months you've been dragged in three fights with the local bullies."

"But they were stealing money from their underclassmen. I had to stop them."

"How? By letting them punch you in the face until they got tired and left? Which is, if I'm not mistaken, exactly what happened."

"Err… But it worked," he pointed out scratching his head sheepishly.

"I'm not even going to comment on that," Issei deadpanned. "But seriously Shirou, don't do something reckless like that, all right? You are the only person inside this school that doesn't seem to actively work to give me troubles. Don't start doing it now."

"Ah, come on Issei. It can be that bad? Besides there's also Tohsaka-san who can be of help if you'd only ask."

"I would rather not do that if I could, Shirou."

"Why?" Shirou asked. "She's a model student. Did something happen bad between the two of you I don't know about?"

"No, nothing of the sort. It's just that there's something about that doesn't really convinces me. Ah, forget I said anything. It's probably just my imagination."

Shirou eyed his friend warily. He knew that the girl wasn't as pure as she made it out to be; no Magus could truly be that candid. Which held true for him as well of course. Poor Issei didn't know half of it when it came to his two schoolmates, even though he was proving to be quite receptive. Seeing though Tohsaka pleasant mask wasn't an easy feat, and he had almost nailed him right away as the Archer. Granted, he probably knew him better than anyone else in school beside Taiga, who, for all her good intentions, couldn't see a brick wall if she walked into it sometimes. She was a klutz like that.

Still, that made him think about the girl once again. He almost hadn't recognize her the previous evening until he was standing right in front of her. It had been a close call. If those guys had proven to be too much of a challenge for his more.. mundane skills he would have been forced to tap into his Prana, giving away his nature as a Magus to the magic attuned girl, something he had no intention to do. He didn't want to let anyone know about the existence of another Magus in Fuyuki, especially not the guardian of the land. While he had no reason to clash against other Magi at the moment, he preferred to keep his identity and the full scope of his skills under wrap. As his father had taught him, secrecy was probably the most powerful weapon at his disposal, and one that couldn't be retrieved once lost.

Being an unknown factor, untraceable and unpredictable, gave him the upper hand in nearly every situation as proven the previous evening. If those thugs had expected him and attacked him at once he wouldn't have been able to dispose of them as easily. His sudden appearance and their ignorance of his actual skills had offered him an easy victory.

He pushed the thoughts away and placed an hand on Issei's shoulder in a comforting manner, walking with him to his next period. If the poor guy only knew how many troubles Tohsaka and he could actually bring forth….

* * *

><p>For the following week Tohsaka returned to the alley by herself around the same time as the first evening. She wanted to find out some clues on the mysterious vigilante who run amok in her territory. It was a matter of pride. She chose to go back at the same time as before in case the boy had a regular pattern to patrol the city but so far there was no trace of him. So far.<p>

"Good advices should be put into practice, Miss," a voice spoke from nowhere and Tohsaka nearly jumped out her skin. She looked around frantically for the origin of the voice and found him perched like a predator on a small window sill, high above the ground.

"How did you get up there?" She asked, seeing that there was no way to climb so high short of using a stair.

"… From inside the building," he answered and Tohsaka felt a little silly. What had she expected? That he flew up there? Being a Magus sometimes screwed your perceptions. "Now, why were you looking for me exactly?"

"… What makes you think I was looking for you specifically?"

"You're here at the same hour as the last time, and I don't think you came back here because you like the scenery or enjoyed the company of the locals."

"N… This is just the shortest way to my house," she protested.

"So you'd go through a dangerous place like this just to cut a few short meters?"

"I… I was in a hurry!" She claimed. _'Why am I arguing with him like this?'_

"You've been standing there for the past ten minutes looking at the ground, miss…"

"ARE YOU STALKING ME?" She shouted, almost ready to magically curse the annoying boy.

"That would be my question," came the dry reply. "See, I don't like when people snoop around me trying to find out my identity. I wear a mask for a reason you know? Now, why were you looking for me?"

"I… It's none of your business were I go or what I do."

"Fair enough," he shrugged. "Well then, since you don't seem to need anything from me I'll be on my way."

"W-wait a moment!" She all but commanded as he was about to get back inside.

"Yes?"

"Why are you doing this?"

The Archer narrowed his eyes a little, contemplating if parting what that tidbit of information could lead her to find out who he was. Not finding any reason to withhold it he answered.

"Because I knew despair and hopelessness once, but I have been saved. Now, all I want to do I saving others from the same fate with my own hands. Good night, Miss."

With those words he snuck back into the window and disappeared from sight, leaving behind a puzzled Tohsaka.

"He had been saved…?" She pondered alone in the dark alley for a while, before realizing that she had no longer reason to remain there anymore and quickly left as well.

* * *

><p>Without so much as a noise, Shirou slipped inside his house undetected, a little worried about that evening meeting.<p>

Tohsaka was on his case. That didn't bode well. Why was she so interested in what she should have considered a mundane vigilante? He never used any of his Thaumaturgy in her presence, so there shouldn't have been any reason for her to search for him. Or was there?

Admittedly he knew very little of her schoolmate and fellow Magus except what little he managed to scrape for casual observation and with the knowledge on the Tohsaka family his father passed to him. Could she be that she had a way to detect lingering magic?

No, that couldn't be the case. If she was capable of doing something like that she would have confronted him as Shirou already. So why was she so interested in him? It went behind her duties as guardian of the land. Was sort of interest could she have in him then?

That night he fell asleep a little perturbed by his inability to come up with a logical reason for Tohsaka behavior, but still resolved to keep his guard up around her.

* * *

><p>Both Shirou and Tohsaka had to put aside their late night quests and worries in order to face something a lot more common yet equally dreadful.<p>

Midterm exams.

Neither of them had really anything to worry about when it came to their grades, but both of them still had their reasons to do try best.

For Tohsaka it was essentially her competitive streak that pushed her to excel in everything she did and the façade of model student and school idol to uphold.

For Shirou was simply his sense of duty and the knowledge that if he started slacking in some field there was nothing holding him back from doing the same with something else. It was everything or nothing to him.

With that kind of mindset on both parts it was obvious that the two Magi would soon clash against each other.

* * *

><p>Tohsaka Rin was proud of herself. Despite the time wasted at finding out more about the mysterious vigilante, she still managed to breeze through the exams. Of course, for a person with the mindset of a Magus a simple written school exam held nothing of the challenge and the pressure it had over a common student. All it took her was a little study and she would ace her test blindfolded.<p>

She was sure that she would be ranked first in her age group; there was no other possible outcome in her mind. With that conviction she approached the results posted in the hallway for everyone to see. Her eyes run to the top of the list where her name certainly was written.

#1 - Emiya Shirou.

She blinked. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. She looked again.

#1 - Emiya Shirou.

Nope. The name at the top still wasn't hers. Her left eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but she gave on other outward sign of her growing inner turmoil. For some sort of miracle the _Fake Janitor_ managed to steal her rightful place from under her feet. How could she bear to be number 2?  
>Apparently she didn't have to.<p>

Her gaze fell on the name below.

#2 – Ryuudou Issei.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to dispel the illusion. She looked again.

#2 – Ryuudou Issei.

A thick, pulsating vein formed on her forehead. A strangled growl died in throat as she fought to keep her graceful public persona. She looked once again a line below.

#3 - Tohsaka Rin.

Finally. If she was ranked below yet another student she would have blown the building to Kingdom Come and then planted proofs to blame it on a gas leak or some other amenity like that.

To say that she was furious would be a gross understatement. She was a girl with a competitive streak a mile wide who gave nothing but her very best at everything she did and didn't expect any less in return. To think that someone so unremarkable managed to over score her was something akin to blasphemy in her mind.

She, the heir of Tohsaka, a promising young Magus and guardian of the land had been surpassed by a mere commoner? Such an affront wouldn't pass without repercussions. Not a chance.

* * *

><p>Shirou was more than happy with his score. Why shouldn't he? He unexpectedly scored first in his age group, even above Issei and Tohsaka. He knew he had applied himself diligently to all of his studies but didn't expect that kind of result.<p>

What would people think if they knew he cheated? Sort of…

He didn't expect it to work so well. It was an accident, really. A side effect of his Thaumaturgy. He just thought he had too little time in a single day to dedicate to all of his _activities_ so he began multitasking. Honestly, he believed it would backfire at first. Instead it worked better than he had originally hoped.

Shirou had little access and talent for complex branches of magic. That much had become clear very soon in his studies; therefore he decided to optimize what he was capable of instead. Structural Grasping and Reinforcement. The first allowed him to understand the structure and composition of an object just by touching it as if he saw its blueprint inside his mind. The second consisted in pouring his Prana into an object's imperfection to make it stronger.

Although they were very simple concepts in theory, both had their own drawbacks. His perfect Structural Grasping was, as Kiritsugu had bluntly put it, extremely useful to understand the inner working of nearly everything, but was completely useless in battle. Shirou agreed with that statement but he had his own idea on how to utilize it.

Reinforcement downside on the other hand, was as simple as the concept itself. If you force too much of something into a container it will ultimately break apart. Indeed, a minor slip up with Reinforcement would easily shatter the recipient to pieces as it flowed into said container lines of weakness. Such concept held true even when applied to the Magus's body itself, with varying degrees of gore depending on the magnitude of the mistake. It was therefore an art soon discarded by all Magi in favor of more complex and safer methods of strengthening something or someone, although they were less accessible and more time consuming.

Shirou neither had the resources nor mindset to quit something just because it was difficult. Thus set himself to make the best out of those two techniques.

For years he combined them on himself, studying his body with Structural Grasping while he poured increasing amount of Prana in his muscles and bones. It had been a painstakingly slow and generally painful process that bore little results for a long time, but it finally paid off.

Years of diligently training bore results he could be proud. Results no other Magus ever achieved or even attempted to achieve due to the process' difficulties and inherent risks.

Of course that didn't mean he was finished. As he grew his body changed, more so under the pressure coming from inside the muscles themselves when he worked on his Reinforcement with himself as a subject. It acted like a passive form of physical training which, paired with his normal workout routine, crafted his body into the tool he needed to become the Hero he dreamed to be.

He hid it underneath his somewhat baggy clothes or the school uniform, but for his fourteen years he had a physical prowess only talented athletes much older and experienced could flaunt. And he still had lots of growing up to do. Confident with those result he decided to take what he thought to be the next logical step in the technique: Reinforcing his organs.

Many others Magi wouldn't have dared, too greedy for immediate, tangible results and too scared by eventual permanent damages.

Shirou on his part, for all his lack of other talent, had lots of patience and little restraint (some would call it common sense) when it came to putting his life in on the line for the sake of his dreams. Eyes and ears were the first to be tested and after overcoming and getting used to the initial pains he noticed a sensible increment in his eyesight and hearing. He didn't suddenly become an eagle capable of seeing miles afar but it was still amazing in his own right.

Heart and lung followed with much, much caution. Had he been older he would have probably given himself a stroke but his young, strong heart managed somehow to sustain the effort and grew stronger. Running a marathon now wouldn't a problem for him anymore so long as he kept himself within the limits of a normal human being.

Bolstered by the amazing fruits of his work bore he took the ultimate step and. If reinforcing an organ magnified its resistance and functions, what would reinforce his brain do?

…Beside giving him a splitting headache and a nosebleed that is.

He found out that it greatly enhanced his cognitive ability and hastened his perceptions to the point of seeing things in slow motion. If Kiritsugu was still alive at that point he would have compared it to the effect of his _Accel_, even if the body reactions didn't follow the brain's newfound speed. It didn't make him any more intelligent, but his ability to memorize things multiplied tenfold reducing the time he needed to learn anything. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. If he managed to Reinforce his entire body to the point of keeping up with his accelerated perception he would truly become the superhero he wanted to be.

It was still very, very ,very far from there but now he knew it was theoretically feasible.

Also, it didn't hurt that he breezed through all the material he had to review for the exams thanks to it. Still, even while he knew that he had indeed studied for the tests a little part of his mind couldn't help but feeling for the unfair advantage he had over the other students.

It took him a little while to come to term with that but in the end he had to admit to himself that every person had his own talents and he had worked hard at his Reinforcement. In a roundabout way it was still the fruit of his hard work, and as such that made his results rightfully earned.

Too bad somebody else wouldn't be of the same opinion if she knew.

* * *

><p>He was walking down the corridors with Issei when it happened.<p>

He felt it even before seeing her. It washed over him like a blanket of dreadful intentions not dissimilar to what his father put him through as he helped him train. Only the experience saved him from hitting the figurative trigger in his mind and tapping into his abilities to face the incoming wrath.

Then he saw her. The sheer contrast between her angelic appearance and the malice surrounding her was enough to make him dizzy.

"Emiya-san," she spoke with that sweet voice of her. "Congratulations on your exams results. You too Ryuudou-san."

"A-Ah thank you, Tohsaka-san" Shirou stuttered as he tried to control his voice. "I'm just trying to do my best. That's all."

"Indeed," Issei replied far calmer than Shirou but still a little paler than usual. "As the president of the Student body and Shirou as the captain of the Archery club it is our duty to set the example of the other students."

"That's truly awe inspiring. I'll make sure to follow your example from now on. Well, I should really get to class now. Goodbye Emiya-san, Ryuudou-san."

She stepped between them to proceed and as she was right beside Shirou she whispered, "Next time I'll be the one on top," making Issei and him shiver at the underling menace in her voice.

"What… was that?" Shirou asked once she was out of earshot.

"The confirmation of my suspicions," Issei declared as he adjusted his glasses on his nose. "As I thought, Tohsaka-san is far from being the pleasant person she pretends to be. I would guess that our exams ranking has upset her to the point of putting aside her façade with us. Careful Emiya. If she's the kind of person I think she is, she won't stop at nothing to get what she wants."

"Wait… You aren't telling me that she would actually do something to… physically take me out of the _competition_?" He asked while knowing how ridicules it sounded to a normal person. While Japanese culture was heavily based on personal competitiveness both inside and outside school, not many would actually harm a fellow student just to be ranked first at the exams. To be a Magus, however, you had to be a little screwed up in the head to begin with.

…. Could Tohsaka actually be up to something unsavory for him?

"I don't think she would go as far as intentionally harming you, but she has plenty of guys willing to do anything just to catch a glimpse of her attention. If she accidentally lets slip out that she's angry with you some of her less savory admirers might target you just for that purpose. And we both know how that will end in your case."

Shirou just groaned. What had he done to deserve that situation? Was it true then, that no good deed went unpunished? Resigning himself to deal with the situation as it came he turned around and left with Issei. Hopefully his busy day would distract him from the latest events.

…. Hopefully.

* * *

><p><strong>Author Notes:<strong>

Yeah. This is it. I always considered funny that someone who wanted to be a Hero so badly did nothing at all to become one. So this time around Shirou is acting like the Hero he wants to become by doing some small vigilantism on his own. Too bad Tohsaka is on his case.

The war will arrive in a few months but before then Shirou will find himself in more than a few messy situations, a few of which won't be related to Magic. How will this make things for him? Keep reading to find out

Review answers:

Kiyomaro-kun: My first Italian reviewer. Thanks for your support.

Angry Santo: Duh! Harem! You have to wait to see who will be part of it.

Sperance: Thanks! I'll hope to meet your expectations.

Orchamus: Yes, Third Fang's stories are the best. I already had this fic in mind before he began his "From fake dreams" but I have to admit the sheer awesomeness of it prompted me to finally start writing this one.

Chad001: I beg to differ. In canon Shirou is never at Servant level. Sure he can take them on and win but it has an heavy toll on him when he does. To be Servant Level means to be capable of using said level of ability without the drawbacks.

rajvir: It should be somewhat long. There are going to be a few chapters before the war where Shirou goes on his quests as Archer. Then it will come the war in all of its glory and maybe after that I will write a few adventures for him (no promises)

Well that's all for this time folks.

Till next time.

PS: Do remember that I'm not a native English writer and I'm mostly self taught, so please forgive me for any mistake you might find.


	4. To be Saved

**CHAPTER 3 – TO BE SAVED**

* * *

><p>Things returned to a measure of normalcy after the exam rush. The overall pressure faded once the results were posted and the students returned to their routine and clubs activities restarted as before.<p>

All except for Shirou, who level of stress only increased after Tohsaka declaration of war. So far she carried on like normal, barely acknowledging his existence and always with the utmost politeness. However the gleam in her eyes told a whole different story to the red haired Magus. There was no mistaking it. It was the look one gave to a long standing foe. An enemy to be crushed.

Thankfully, it appeared that she wanted to keep it completely within the boundaries of a healthy (?) school rivalry. Otherwise he would have been forced to take severe safety measure to ensure his continued survival. He wasn't sure how good she was as a Magus and he had no intention of finding out by being at the wrong end of her Thaumaturgy.

In a few days he managed to relax and return to his daily routine as well, which usually began… with a good beating.

"OOOFF!" Shirou exhaled as the fist connected with his stomach, making him double over. He didn't have time to ponder on the pain it brought as he had to roll away from his attacker. The finishing blow missed his temple by mere inches.

Hastily standing on his feet he resumed his guard just in time to face the onslaught of blows coming his way. Every punch was aimed to a vital point making not being hit an absolute priority. Shirou battle tempered body didn't need to be told what to do by the brain, as it reacted on instinct almost all by itself.

Still, his opponent's experience and ability were way beyond his. It was painfully clear that soon he would make a fatal mistake.

Striking back wasn't an option. It would have meant opening his guard even further bringing an end to the confrontation. There was no way he could win. The gap between their abilities was too big for him to achieve victory. Even if he used his Thaumaturgy there was no way he could win. It was just a matter of time now before _he_ would end it.

Like predicted, not two minutes later Shirou did a minor slip up and opened his side to his foe. A gloved fist connected with his temple, sending him sprawling sideway and robbing him of his consciousness in the process. As darkness overtook him the last thing Shirou saw was the figure of his opponent kneeling over him. It was over.

* * *

><p>He opened his eyes moments later and soon regretted it. His head throbbed painfully from the blow he had received and the ice bag on his forehead did little to damper the feeling. He was used to deal with pain after years of self applied Thaumaturgy, but his Sensei still knew how to hit.<p>

"How are you feeling?" The dark haired man asked from beside him. His voice lacked any sort of concern like usual. Shirou looked at the man that sparred against him while wearing his everyday business suit complete with necktie. It was like fighting against Shirou didn't even make him sweat. Thinking about it, that was probably the case.

"Dizzy. But I'll manage," Shirou answered as he stood up again. He returned to the center of his dojo and bowed. "Thanks for the lesson, Kuzuki-Sensei."

The older man acknowledged him with a simple nod of his head. "You have improved, though you still have to learn how to control your emotions" he stated flatly. There was nothing in his voice but mere acknowledgement of his pupil skills. There was no appreciation for his achievements as there was never disappointment for his shortcomings.

"Thank you, Kuzuki-Sensei," Shirou replied politely. His teacher wasn't capable of appreciating but he certainly was.

"We should finish it here for today," the man pointed out. "I have to head to school early and your friend will be here shortly. Don't be late for class."

"I won't," Shirou agreed still bowing. He didn't intend to be late for class any way, but even less so when Kuzuki Soichirou told him not to be. The man exuded an icy aura that made anyone jump when he said to jump, no questions asked.

"Very well. I'll be going," he turned and left the dojo.

"Thank you for the lesson, Sensei."

He watched him leave. Even after all the time they knew each other, Shirou couldn't get used to him. At school it passed as the kind of behavior a proper teacher should have and was often addressed as an example from his colleagues.

Shirou knew better though. He knew that it wasn't a choice rather a reflection of his true nature.

Emptiness.

Kuzuki Soichiro was a hollow man. He realized it since the day he discovered who he actually was.

* * *

><p><span>One Year Before<span>

It had been raining for the past few days and it didn't seem it was about to stop. Children returned home as soon as school ended without looking back. Most streets were empty and void of life.

It was a scenario diametrically opposite to that blazing inferno but Shirou couldn't help but associate the emptiness around him to that time. He wasn't scared. Even if the Great Fire had scarred him physiologically it hadn't gave him any sort of phobia, rather it had bestowed on him a greater sensibility to read the atmosphere.

He wondered if the streets felt hollow because they were empty or if it was the other way around. Fuyuki city was an odd place. There were shifts in the atmosphere that made it seem like the town itself had a mood of its own.

As a result of his training with Structural Grasping, his sensibility was enhanced even further. It was like he never really turned it off but just let it sleep beneath the surface waiting to be shaken awake as soon as he flooded himself with Prana. It was, in a sense, like a second sight he didn't focus on until he needed it, but still there nonetheless-

Because of this, Shirou could feel those shifts as if they called out to him. A call he was eager to answer. While Kiritsugu was alive he restrained himself not to worry his father but after his death he really had no reason to hold back. That's why he was walking outside with only the protection of an umbrella despite the pouring rain.

There was a sense of… tension in the air like something was about to snap. He followed that figurative tense cable all the way to the point where the pressure was stronger. It took him nearly two hours to follow this trail thorough main roads and back alleys. The feeling grew stronger as the pressure in the air, as he chased it all the way to its source.

He wasn't that surprised when he found himself standing in the middle of the park that had been built on the ruins of the great fire. Was it the lingering despair of the victims that had called him out there?

It didn't make sense. He always felt the residual malice of that place and this… this was different. It was more intense. Alive.

His eyes scanned the outline of the trees searching for the source of this restlessness but there was no one around. No one he could see.

"Trace on," he muttered under his breath.

It was rough and not nearly as good as it could be if he was Grasping something in direct contact with him but it was still something to work with.

He had realized a few weeks prior that with his level of proficiency with Structural Grasping he could not only understand the composition of any object, but also its history or, as he called it, its Accumulated Experience. It was still a work in progress, but he hypothesized that if he managed to truly understand something he could eventually make long lasting Projected copies of an any item. He had never time to practice on it but he still managed to put a few theories on paper during his few downtimes.

As it stood, he could apply it to Grasp the turbulences in the atmosphere around him to locate their source as long as he was close enough. In addition he reinforced his eyes and ears in order to pick up every hint he could.

Rustling leave. Heavy breathing. Flesh hitting flesh. Blood. A heartbeat getting slower and slower. Death.

Shirou's eyes snapped open. He flooded his limbs with Prana and darted in the direction of the ongoing battle with speed beyond human limits.

As he got closer the sounds became more distinct. Carefully he hid himself behind a tree and watched the scene unfold.

Five men, dressed in identically inconspicuous grey business suits, were surrounding a sixth wounded man dressed in the same style but in black. They all wore identical triangular white masks that covered their faces from their eyebrows to their noses. It was small enough to be carried into a pocket and big enough to hide their faces beyond recognition.

Not that Shirou needed to see anything more than their eyes.

Cold, icy rocks. They betrayed no emotion whatsoever as they prowled around the wounded man. Shirou could tell no difference between them expect for the one in the middle.

He was dangerous. Extremely so. Everything in his posture advertised his strength. It was no wonder the other five were being so prudent around him.

It was also no wonder there were two other dead guys lying not too far away. The lone man comrades or his victims? From what he could Grasp of the man strength from where he was the latter seemed more probable. If he had even one capable ally the other five wouldn't stand a single chance. There was no doubt in Shirou's mind. The wounded man had spilled more blood, both his own as well as others', than his four assailant combined.

Wait… four?

It happened in a blur. One of them had closed the gap to this would-be-victim with blinding speed. And with the same speed his neck was snapped and his body flung in the air like a lifeless doll. It happened so fast that Shirou could have sworn the man was already dead when he started his attack.

His death was the last straw for his four living comrades who assaulted the black clad businessman at the same time with the perfect synchronicity of a well oiled machine.

And then… then something amazing happened.

The man dressed in black moved through each blow like a river's water around the rock in its path. It was truly as sight to behold. Only the fact that there were more blows coming from every direction and with different timing allowed his foes to land a few hit, but only on exchange of the lives of two of them.

With their numbers now even lower then before there was no way they could defeat him.

That is, if the few blows they just managed to score didn't pile up with his previous injuries.

He was about to strike again when his body shook once and blood sprouted from his impassible mouth, making him stagger for a single moment.

Like the trained assassin the undoubtedly were, his killers seized this occasion to finally bring him down for good.

Already regaining his composure the lone fighter moved to intercept them, and while he was able to deflect and injury the first, the second one took advantage of his still open guard to finally strike a lethal blow.

There was a strange sense of resignation in the black clad man's eyes and something that could pass as relief, as he waiting for that moment to arrive for a long, long time.

He watched through his adrenaline enhanced perceptions death reducing the distance.  
>Getting closer.<br>And closer.  
>And closer.<p>

Until Shirou's Reinforced punch met forcefully with the executioner's ribcage, sending him flying away and hitting against a tree. The sound of shattered bones told him that he wouldn't get up anytime soon.

The last of the group, seriously wounded by the black dressed man, realized that there was now no way for him to complete his task. With the last of his strength he dashed at Shirou, ignoring the pain in his body, and hit the red haired boy with the most powerful punch he could muster right at his temple with a sickening cracking noise.

Broken bones. Blood.

Only the tiniest widening of his eyes betrayed the assassin's surprise, when he realized that it was his hand that had broke instead of his target's skull. He just had a fraction of second to ponder the impossibility of such a thing before Shirou's hook shattered his jaw. His body arched the air, completely weightless, only for it to land on the wet ground, unconscious.

Despite having intervened in help of the black dressed man Shirou jumped away from him, just in case. The two guys he took down were nothing compared to him, and while he came to his help because he was outnumbered and certainly going to be killed if Shirou had done nothing, there was no telling what he was going to do now. Not knowing what were the circumstances, safety was the better part of valor, Shirou concluded.

They stared at each other for a moment, evaluating their respective intentions. Finally, the man relaxed his arms, clearly stating his non-aggressiveness. Shirou too relaxed as he saw that.

"What's going on?" He asked. "Who are you guys and what – HEY!" The man toppled forward, his eyes closing as he did. Shirou barely had time to stretch out his arm and catch him before he hit the ground.

The man pulse and breathing were regular but it was clear he was exhausted. Sighing Shirou resigned himself not having answer for the time being. Well that wasn't completely true. As he wasn't about to leave the man he had just saved unconscious under the rain, he would have to carry him back to the Emiya estate. Doing that while he still wore his mask wasn't an option, as a teenager carrying an unconscious adult on his back under the rain looked already suspicious as it was.

He turned the man on his back and slowly peeled away the mask. And then froze.

"Kuzuki-Sensei?" he nearly shouted. Imagine his surprise when he found out that one of his school teacher was actually a trained assassin by the look of it. Even more questions piled up and he had to shake his head to clear his mind. There was no answer for him there.

Reinforcing his limbs once more he grabbed the unconscious form of Kuzuki Soichiro and began running back to his house through the streets still void of people.

Getting back took less time than going to the park as Shirou didn't need to follow any trail thus making the road shorter. Knowing what had originated the disturbance made him understand that the trail was actually the lingering killing intent the assassins emanated. They must have fought through the city for a long time to permeate the atmosphere as they did.

It was a useful ability for a hero wannabe to be able to track such things, but he was still green at it. Six, no seven trained killers generated a trail that he was able to follow but not to identify, and that while there was no one around to mud the tainted atmosphere with his presence. How much would he have to train to reach a sensibility sharp enough to follow a trail in not so favorable circumstances? Probably years.

He sighed as he pondered just how far his goal was. Well, no use in sulk over that.

He brought Kuzuki in an empty room and proceeded to remove his wet clothes. He was in the middle of removing his shirt when the teacher's eyes snapped open and focused on Shirou like piercing daggers.

Awkward silence….

"Emiya-san," Kuzuki said making Shirou jump away.

"Ah. Sensei. How are you feeling?"

"My injuries are minor. There's no permanent damage," he answered after a moment of consideration.

"Well that's good," Shirou commented.

… More awkward silence….

"Sensei…, " Shirou began. "What happened? Who were those men? Who… are you really?"

Kuzuki's eyes returned to Shirou and stared.

….

…. ….

Too much awkward silence….

"They were murderers. As I am."

Simple and to the point. No embellishments and no excuses either. Shirou reaction was to raise both his eyebrows at the bluntness of the answer. That didn't tell him anything he hadn't figured out by himself already, though the honesty was certainly appreciated.

"I figured as much. Care to expand on that?"

And strangely Kuzuki did after surveying Shirou's intentions through his eyes. He explained how he had been trained since birth to become a perfect killing machine. Lethal, precise and absolutely inconspicuous. His job as a teacher nothing more than a way to give Kuzuki Soichiro a place to be when he wasn't masterfully spilling blood.

He told him how he was raised, trained and unleashed. He told him how he took lives without distinguish between social standing, gender or age.

Shirou should have been disgusted.  
>Shirou was disgusted.<br>The man was the incarnation of all he stood against. The very antithesis to his existence.

He should have hated him, despised him.  
>But he didn't.<p>

Through his entire story Kuzuki Soichiro didn't betray a single emotion. Neither regret nor enjoyment for what he had done. He was the empty shell of man. The very first victim of that accursed existence.

"Then…" Shirou began after taking a deep breath to steady his voice. "Why were they trying to kill you?"

Silence again. For the first time an emotion showed on the man's face. Confusion.

Why had he gone against his _comrades_? What possessed him to refuse the orders? He didn't know. No, even if he couldn't properly feel his own emotions he logically knew the answer.

"Because I…. didn't want to be a tool anymore."

Again there was no emotion in his voice. He didn't even say that he didn't want to kill anymore. It wasn't regret that pushed him to turn against his allies. It was rebellion. It the hollow shell that was Kuzuki Soichiro, for some unknown reason a spark still burned. Something that made him less of a weapon and more of a man.

'_Could it be enough to save him?_' Shirou wondered.

While he had no problem with the concept of killing those who were Evil in order to save those who were Innocent if the situation at hand required it, he had no liking for killing nor did he envision it as a method of punishment for those who committed a crime.

He couldn't really blame his teacher for what he was either, which brought him to question the current situation. Could the tiny spark of humanity inside Kuzuki Soichiro be enough to save him?

"Teach me," Shirou said after a moment. "Teach me how to fight like you do."

"Why?" The black haired man asked back. The word sounded weird coming from his mouth as he had never used it before, never questioned the reasons behind any action.

"Because I want to help people. Because you are strong. And I need to become stronger to save more people."

The assassin looked at Shirou for a long moment before answering. "_The snake_ is made to kill people, not save them. Furthermore somebody with a _Heart_ like you isn't suited for it."

Seated on his heels with his back upright Shirou stared right back. A thin smile formed on his lips. '_Not suited, uh? Where did I hear that before?_' He wondered with irony.

"There are plenty of things I've been told I'm not suited for," he told him. "I don't care. So long as you teach me I will turn your killing technique in a technique to save people."

Propped on his elbows Kuzuki stared at him once more. For someone so void of emotion it seemed he could read others' pretty well.

"Very well. On a condition"

"What?"

"Tell me, what are you?" he asked him bluntly.

"Ah? What do you mean?" Shirou asked with an edge in his voice. Kuzuki certainly wasn't a Magus so there was no way he could have perceived his Thaumaturgy.

"There are such things as human limits Emiya-san. Your speed, strength and resistance far exceed that of a normal human."

"What? No way, you are way faster and stronger than I am," he protested.

"No. My skills are more simply more polished, with no useless movement. As such they look faster and stronger, but your uncoordinated style of fighting is nothing like that. What are you Emiya Shirou?"

"Equivalent exchange?" Shirou half asked, half pondered to himself. Not for a single moment he considered the fact that he saved the man's life something he already owed him for. He just wasn't wired like that. "Fair enough. A secret for a secret. I am what it's called a Magus…."

It was Shirou turn to tell his story this time. He skipped over the details of his upbringing but still told him enough to make him understand the motives behind his actions as well as the reasons for his abilities. As expected Kuzuki betrayed no emotions whatsoever and simply accepted Shirou's explanation as the truth. He was capable to understand if someone lied to him, especially if the topic was so unbelievable. The complete lack of deceit in Shirou's body language, paired with what he had witnessed, combined with the fact that he had saved his life was enough to make him believe what he was hearing.

"I see," was the simple statement once the tale was finished.

Shirou took the man reaction positively. While it was expressly prohibited on the pain of death to divulge the existence of Thaumaturgy, Shirou didn't care for various reasons. For one, there were certainly plenty of non Magus people that knew of Magic. While the Clock Tower did an impressive job of hiding the truth either by wiping the memories or outright killing eventual witness, most Magus had a few relatives that did not meddle with Magic and lived normal lives while being aware of its existence. Second, there were plenty of nuts out there. Someone sputtering nonsense about magic wasn't going to catch anybody attention, especially not the Association's so long as he didn't start casting spell of giving tangible proofs. Thirdly, Shirou highly doubted his Sensei would tell anyone seeing as his own background was quite abnormal.

It was a risk but a very small one everything considered. A sacrifice necessary to ignite a spark of trust between them. It was Shirou's first step to save someone in a way beyond rescuing them from immediate harm. An endeavor far more difficult to accomplish but something he needed to do anyway.

"One last thing. Do I have to expect more of your former colleagues to come after you?" Shirou asked.

"Unlikely. On principle they would never let a traitor get away, but I have already killed fifteen of their most trained assassins. At this point they will cut their losses and move on. Not even their most skilled tool going out of control is worth such loss of manpower. We should be safe for the foreseeable future."

Shirou nodded. It was a relief not having to watch their back form trained assassins. "So, we have a deal?" He asked to the man lost in his thoughts.

"I believe we do," was the emotionless reply as Kuzuki grabbed Shirou outstretched arm to seal the deal.

It was the first act of one of the weirdest Teacher-Pupil relationship Shirou would ever see in his entire life.

* * *

><p><span>Present time<span>

He watched his teacher as he left the house. After a whole year there had been no change in him that Shirou could tell. Well, having quit his life as an assassin was already a very good start but that wasn't Shirou's doing rather the man's own choice. That had to be expected though. Reversing a lifetime of indoctrination couldn't be an easy job to begin with.

For the time being he could at the very least turn Kuzuki's technique against its original purpose by using it to help other instead of doing them harm. In a certain sense it was already a way for Shirou's teacher to atone for his sins.

Coming to the subject of his proficiency with the _Snake_, Shirou was rather satisfied with himself. As Kuzuki predicted, his predisposition to save people made it harder for him to learn how to handle the technique properly. It took him a year of constant practice to obtain enough skills to apply it to disable instead of killing. The night when he helped his schoolmates was the first time he used it on somebody that wasn't his Sensei, and it was one of the reasons for him to show himself instead of hitting from the safety of the shadows.

One year of efforts and tremendous pain. Kuzuki wasn't one to go lightly. Not that Shirou wanted him to do so in the first place. Being a Magus had taught him that nothing could be gained without sacrificing something in return.

Even Magic wasn't such a convenient thing in fact. There was always a deal, an exchange to be made. One couldn't expect anything more than what he was disposed to give in the first place. To obtain more than what was given went against the rules of the World. It was akin to break the laws of thermodynamic or, in Thaumaturgy terms, creating a Sorcery, a miracle.

Magecraft, in fact, couldn't do anything that "Science" couldn't potentially do once the right knowledge was obtained. It was merely another way to manipulate natural resources and energies, both from within (Od) and outside (Mana) of the Magus, to obtain a certain effect. For all means and purpose it was a very convenient branch of "Science" that was restricted to a very limited number of people. Such convenience however, was limited to the Magus' talent and more than anything else his willingness to risk his life for his purposes. A simple, yet frightening concept, that made the existence of a practitioner of Thaumaturgy closer to the World's inner working in exchange for the closeness to Death.

Shirou's lack of talent was certainly compensated by his complete disregard for his own life. By putting his life on the line entirely he managed to achieve unheard results in the fields of Thaumaturgy he could apply himself to.

Clenching his fist (while using the other to support the ice bag) Shirou smiled. One step at a time his dream was getting closer. He didn't delude himself. He knew that the more he improved the harder it would become, but for the time being he could relish in the feeling of accomplishment that was coursing though him.

"Emiya-Senpai?" Sakura's voice called for him from the entrance snapping him from his line of thought.

"Ah. I'm in the dojo. I'll be there shortly, Sakura." He run to the bathroom before she could catch a glimpse of his bruised face. Despite their long time friendship Shirou never revealed her his nature as a Magus, nor he spoke about his nighttime activities and related trainings. If she saw his face in that moment she would have asked questions he didn't want to answer.

Closing the bathroom's door behind him he undressed and began washing himself like every morning after his workout. While he was in the water he focused a little Prana in the offended area to accelerate the healing.

Having the Scabbard inside him granted him a minor healing factor that accelerated further when he let his own power course through his body. Small cut and bruises never lasted more than a few hours and deeper wounds healed in a matter of days.

Imagine his surprise when, as a nine years old practicing his grasping, he found a foreign object embedded inside his body. Of course, when it happened he immediately run to his father, who wasn't surprised at all by his discovery.

It was the day when Shirou learned about the Holy Grail war. About Seven Master and Seven Servants. About a war for a relic capable of fulfilling a single wish. About a corrupted power that burned the city, killing over five hundred people in the processes. It was the day when he discovered that his father was going to die due to a curse placed on him. It was the first time Shirou cried openly for something he couldn't do anything about.

* * *

><p><span>Six Years Before<span>

"There must be something we can do!" Nine years old Shirou cried.

"No, there isn't," Kiritsugu answered with a calm face. He had made his peace with death for a long time. "The curse of the Grail can be undone only by the Grail itself or a power of the same magnitude."

"It can't be. It can't be. There must be a way to save you," the red haired protested through his tears.

"Save… me?" The man asked dumbfounded before smiling at the crying child. "Shirou, you don't understand. I have already been saved."

"But… you are going to die."

"That is true. But death is not something we can avoid. It is part of our lives from the moment we are born," he breathed and let the concept sink in Shirou young mind. "Salvation has nothing to do with avoiding death. To be saved… it's something far more complex. It's true that people generally don't want to die, and that to rescue them from immediate death is usually equal to saving them. But that's not an absolute truth. There are people that can find salvation only through death."

"I… I don't understand. How can death save anyone? When you die everything is over, right? There's nothing you can do after you're dead. So… So if you live another day there's still something you can do."

"That is… over simplification, Shirou. Death isn't… the scariest thing in the world. Tell me, when you where surrounded by the fire. When you knew you didn't have any hope of survival what is that scared you the most? Knowing that you were about to die of the pain and hopelessness that you felt in that moment?"

"I… wanted to live" Shirou answered. " I desperately wanted to live but…. I wanted it to be over. I wanted the pain to go away. The burning and the chocking and…"

"Yes. In that very moment what scared you the most was life itself. Death can be a much more merciful mistress compared to Life."

"But… but you saved me. You saved and I'm happy to be alive now."

"Yes. Because I took you away from the things that were hurting you, scaring you but…. Sometime the things we fear the most are inside of us. Part of us. So ingrained into our own lives that we can't exist without them, but we don't want to live with them either."

"Are you?" Shirou asked. "Are you scared of your life up to the point that you want to die? Is _Death_ your _Salvation_?"

"No," came Kiritsugu certain reply. "You are my Salvation, Shirou."

"M... Me?"

"I... have done many terrible things that I came to regret. I took countless lives for the sake of saving even more lives. Because Death is not such a scary thing, but… I was conceited. I didn't realize that for nearly every life I took somebody was suffering for the loss. For every life I saved I condemned somebody to live with in pain and sorrow. I've killed and killed and killed. And the only thing I had on my hands was blood. In the end the people I've saved are those I've killed, instead of those I've spared. I've brought no happiness into the world. No joy. I've only destroyed. My actions haven't brought a single smile."

"Dad…." Shirou began but Kiritsugu continued.

"Until we met I've only brought death, because I knew that it wasn't the worst possible evil, but… It was an evil nonetheless. But then… then I saved you and that saved me in return. The first person I've saved not by killing somebody else, even if I was involved in the cause of the disaster." He paused for a moment for breath. "Still the weight of the things I did is crushing me, haunting my dreams, wearing me down day after day. I can't undo the past. The lives I've taken cannot be restored. You saved me, Shirou, from being nothing but a murderer, but only death will free me from the burden I've put on my shoulders in the name of my misguided conceptions." At this point he took another moment to organize his thoughts.

"Never forget this. Salvation is something far more complex than a simple choice between life and death. Each is both potentially good and wrong at the same time. In my case, death is the best thing I can hope for. In a sense, the Grail's curse only shortened the time of my suffering, though that also means I have less time to spend with you."

"Then… what should I do? How can I know when saving someone means to let them die?"

"You can't until you have to make that decision, but so long as you strive to save them, truly save them… you'll find your answer. I'm sure of that."

* * *

><p><span>Present Time<span>

Shirou pushed the painful memories away. No use in indulging on something that was already in the past. Sulking over what he had lost wouldn't bring anything but sadness. He would never forget his father or what he had taught him but that was no reason to remain trapped in the past. He would look forward. He would look to all the people he could and would save. That was all that mattered.

He stood out of the water and dried himself, got got dresses and left the bathroom. By the time he had finished the bruise on his face was already gone. Yes, the wounds of the flesh were much easier to heal than the wounds of the soul, and far, far less painful.

"Ohayo Senpai," Sakura greeted as he joined her in the kitchen.

"Good morning to you too Sakura. How are you doing today?"

"I'm fine thank you. Breakfast will be ready shortly."

"Thank you. You shouldn't really have bothered you know? Or at the very least you could have let me help."

"I don't mind, Senpai. I like cooking," _for you_ she wanted to add. "Besides if you really want to help you can set the table."

"That's hardly any helping, but seeing that you've effectively evicted me from the kitchen I'll settle for that."

The calm and tranquility of the following few minutes was suddenly broken by the sound of the incoming beast. Drawn like a predator to its designated target it paced through the corridors with heavy footsteps, shaking the ground beneath her.

"Here she comes," said the red haired boy without even bothering to turn. The door was suddenly jerked open and the famishing beast made its entrance.

"Ohayo, Shirou~!" One Fujimura Taiga sing-sang with a hand raised in greeting. "Where's breakfast?"

"And a good morning to you as well, Fuji-nee. Breakfast will be ready shortly so make yourself at home."

Fifteen minutes later the trio was comfortably seated around the table having finished eating the food Sakura prepared.

"Hmmm~," Taiga moaned appreciatively. "Sakura-chan you are getting better and better at cooking."

"Thank you Fujimura-sensei, but it's all Senpai's merit if I've improved so much," she replied.

"Hardly," Shirou replied. "I might have taught you a couple of things but your stile is entirely different from mine. Don't sell yourself short, this is all your doing."

"Thank you Emiya-senpai," she answered with a light blush. Something that flew right over Shirou's head but didn't escape Taiga. The woman was oblivious toward a lot of things, a trait she shared with Shirou, but she wasn't the most loved teacher of her school for nothing. Her ability to understand her students' feelings were second to none.

The feral smirk that formed on her face would have scared the impassible Kuzuki into hiding.

"Shirou's right, Sakura-chan. With skills like this you will make a man very happy one day. Ne, Shirou? Don't you think Sakura would make for a wonderful wife?"

To her credit not even Taiga realized just how oblivious Shirou was to certain things. She had hoped to see him squirm, trying to find an answer that wasn't compromising for him and at the same time considerate of Sakura's obvious feelings for him.

Shirou, however, holder of many titles like "Fake Janitor" and "In Charge of Maintenance" was also known, mostly by Sakura's brother Shinji, as "Idiot". Therefore, if present, the older Matou wouldn't have been surprised by Shirou blunt and honest answer.

"Ah. Sakura would make a great wife," he agreed thoughtlessly. Reactions varied.

Taiga's face, which was lazily resting on her palm supported by her elbow, lost balance and slammed on the table with a loud _thunk!_

Sakura's blushed so rapidly and violently that her head recoiled back as if physically struck.

Shirou punctually missed the younger girl's reaction as he turned his head to his right when Taiga's face ungracefully hit the table.

"Fuji-nee! What are you doing? Are you hurt?" He asked full of concern.

"Ah, no. I'm fine, I'm fine," she answered pulling herself back up. The wavering smile on her face was a mixture of pain from the blow and disconcert at her charge's stupidity.

"You are not fine," he protested. "Your nose is bleeding."

"Ah. I'll get a tissue," Sakura squealed as she bolted from the table, grateful for the occasion to disappear from sight until she managed to regain control of her blood flow. She returned a minute later with her normal skin color back in place. Still, she made a point to avoid meeting Shirou's eyes. "Senpai, I should go now. I have to meet with my brother before going to school. You don't mind if we don't go together today, do you?"

"Not at all Sakura. Thank you for your help."

"I'll see you later then, Emiya-senpai, Fujimura-sensei," she bowed hastily at the duo. Taiga could only wave her hand as she was busy wiping her face from the blood.

When she left Shirou turned back to Taiga. "Fuji-nee, didn't you get the feeling that Sakura was… distressed?"

The teacher finished to clean her face and put the tissue in her pocket before placing both hands on Shirou's shoulders. She looked at him with the most serious expression she could muster so that her message could reach him.

"Shirou you are… really an idiot," she said with a voice full of compassion.

Shirou requests of an explanation fell on deaf ears as the girl returned to consume her meal pointedly ignoring the boy.

No matter how much he tried he couldn't get an answer out of his self appointed sister.

* * *

><p>Author Notes:<p>

Another chapter is here. I'm trying to keep a steady pace with all of my stories but I have to admit it's rather difficult. Now, this chapter gives us another insight on Shirou's life. For those who ask, yes Avalon has a minor regenerating power even of Arthuria isn't around. No big thing, just something that could be granted by lots of other stuff.

I've published a FSN x Love Hina story if you are interested. Check my profile if you want.

Well, I don't have much else to say, so goodbye for now.


	5. Stirring Shadows

**CHAPTER 4 – STIRRING SHADOWS**

(beta: RavingScholar)

* * *

><p>Forty year old Ryutaro Dojima was one troubled detective. When he first moved in Fuyuki a couple of years prior, he was quite happy with how quiet the city was. It was the kind of place where he wanted his daughter Nanako to grow: lively and densely populated but without the crime rate of other cities of the same size.<p>

In hindsight, he should have known better. Twenty years in the law enforcement department had taught him that just because you don't see something, that doesn't necessarily mean it isn't there. His opinion of the city and its inhabitant had changed drastically in the previous twenty-four months, starting with his colleagues.

Initially, it didn't surprise him that they were somewhat laidback. Besides the few theft and robberies there weren't that many crimes to keep the police forces on their toes. But as time passed, he came to realize that most of his colleagues were lazy and incompetent. Truth be told, he was known to be too serious and inflexible when it came to his job, so his opinion might have been a little biased. But the fact remained that most of his colleagues were way too eager to dump a difficult case on someone else's shoulder. Such was the case with the infamous vigilante dubbed Archer.

The masked teen hero was the fulcrum of Ryutaro's current dilemma and that wasn't limited to the case with his alias printed on it. It appeared that every time the boy was involved or even only supposed to be involved the situation was greatly magnified, starting from within the police department itself.

The law's officers took advantage of the boy's exploits when they managed to cover up his involvement while denouncing his action publicly when they couldn't. For over a year they kept denying his existence, until the number of witnesses was too high to continue doing. While Ryutaro couldn't condone Archer's escapades since vigilantism was a crime, he couldn't forgive his colleagues behavior either and he didn't make a secret out of it. To say that he was disgusted was a gross understatement and that, paired with his work ethic, made him a pariah within the department with the sole exception of his kohai Adachi. Of course while his colleagues dislike him with a passion they didn't dare to cross him either. For one, the man was hard as a brick wall and no amount of enmity would so much as make him flinch, and second he had the support of the higher ups for the same reason. All in all, Ryutaro Dojima was a man not to trifle with.

While knowing all that made him quite proud with himself, it greatly impaired his work. Being new to the city meant that he didn't have nearly the same amount of knowledge the rest of the detectives had. Thus, he had to rely a great lot on the flabby Adachi who had lived and worked in Fuyuki his entire life. The man however, while good natured and well meaning, was as reliable as a house of cards on a windy day, further complicating Ryutaro's work and life in general.

Furthermore, the Archer case was all but simple. The kid was no pushover. He came and went as he pleased without leaving as much as a trace behind. The forensic department was as at loss for words. There was no way someone could sneak inside a warehouse, dispatch ten to twenty armed criminals, with bow and arrows of all things, tie them up, tip the police and leave the place like he hadn't even been there to begin with. It was mind boggling that a teenager could do that by himself. That kind of stuff was impossible for everyone but an agent of some foreign secret service with a lot of backup. In all honesty Ryutaro didn't know where to begin looking for someone like that.

There were too many questions and not the shadow of an answer in sight. The only thing they were fairly certain of was his age, since his height and voice were confirmed by the many witnesses to be of a boy from fourteen to sixteen years old. That was, unless he was in fact a secret agent of twice that age, with a stunted growth that mimicked a younger voice. Of course the few individuals that matched the physical description of the vigilante over the age of twenty in the range of fifty kilometers from the city had been already investigated without the slightest result. Therefore, unless the guy bothered to commute to fight the nearly nonexistent crime of Fuyuki while there were other cities with a lot more needed work, he had to be a minor residing in the area without an independent mean of transportation.

Too bad that there were thousands of boys that fit that description.

The recent cases didn't have any information he could use and the witnesses didn't interact with the vigilante long enough to figure out anything about him beside his apparent age. He had absolutely nothing but his resolve not to give up.

Let it not be said that luck doesn't smile upon the stubborn. Then again, the threshold between a blessing and a curse is often a line so very thin that stepping beyond is unavoidable.

That was one truth that Ryutaro Dojima was about to discover at his own expense.

"What the hell?" He grumbled as his laptop froze while he was browsing the previous cases. With a loud beeping noise it shut down and refused to boot up again. "Wonderful; just what I needed at a time like this. Adachi!"

"W-What is it, Senpai?" The scrawny detective asked as he peered inside Dojima's office.

"This blasted thing stopped working. Call the maintenance guy for me, would you? I'm going to the archive."

"Uh, okay but… you can use my computer if you need," he offered.

"So that you can skim on your own work? Not likely. Besides, I like paper better that these modern pieces of shit that don't work when you need 'em the most."

Truly he would have accepted Adachi's offer if he knew what kind of ordeal was waiting for him.

He could be found five minutes later by the archive room's door with a blank expression and his jaw hanging loosely in surprise. The archives were, to put it mildly, an outright mess. Apparently, after the various folders had been taken out to be digitalized, nobody bothered to put them back in their proper place. Countless folders laid scattered around with no order to them.

Cursing his colleagues even more than he did technology and too prideful to go back and eat his word with Adachi, he rolled up his sleeves and began searching for the folder he needed.

It was the dawn of the following day when he finally came out. Nearly sixteen hours after he first entered. His eyes were circled black and he looked a lot older than the previous day. He hadn't found what he hoped but that doesn't mean his research had been fruitless; quite the opposite in fact. He had a whole different picture to work with. A completely different scenario against which the existence of the Archer made a lot more sense.

The absurdity of a teenager going vigilante in a city as quiet as Fuyuki was the point that made less sense to the tired detective. The boy was too capable to be just a kid living up a childhood dream, but until that point Ryutaro couldn't figure out why someone so young would push himself to acquire such skills when there was no real need for it. Sure, the crimes he prevented there very real, but there wasn't so much apparent criminality in Fuyuki and the neighboring cities to explain something like that.

Apparent being the keyword. Beneath the surface Fuyuki had a shady background: unexplained deaths, disappearing people, disappearing suspects, disappearing witnesses and disappearing evidence. They weren't so many to draw the attention of the general public or the media, but if someone barely competent within the police ever bothered to look beyond his workload, then he would have noticed a very suspicious trend.

The incidents that caught his attention were too many and too different to chalk up to the police's incompetence alone, although it evidently played a great part. He knew that in every city of a certain size a few _uncomfortable_ cases were hushed up for the sake of someone important, but the situation in Fuyuki couldn't be explained that easily. For one, there was no apparent connection. The people involved were of both genders, age, social status and more often than not they didn't know each other. Yet each and every one of those cases were suddenly dropped, treated as natural deaths, or labeled as suicides. They had nothing in common except the way they had been treated by the investigators, which is to say silently and in a hurry.

To someone less interested and experienced it might have passed unnoticed; but not to Dojima's experienced eye.

The most disturbing of all was the unexplained fire that had consumed the city ten years before. It had been blamed to a malfunction in the gas lines that escalated wildly to an entire district, but no conclusive evidence had ever been provided. The affected families had been refunded, the orphans assigned to a family or put in the local church's care and the entire matter had been put to rest.

It took Dojima sixteen hours to put the archives back in order, and for each folder put back in place the situation grew grimmer.

If such a great disservice of justice happened on a regular basis, then it was no wonder that someone decided to take the matter in his own hands and see that the citizens were safe.

The upside of having discovered this obscure scenario was that he finally had a timeframe to work with. If the estimated age of the vigilante was correct then Archer had to be around five or six years old when the great fire happened. Old enough to remember it clearly and being affected by it, and more important than anything else, old enough to have seen something he wasn't supposed to. Seen something that might have prompted him to undergo severe training to prevent more things like that from happening.

Truth be told, Dojima knew it was a big stretch of the imagination, but it was the only thing that made sense to him given the circumstance. Perhaps it was just another dead end but if he restricted the identity of the vigilante to the children affected by the fire that still lived in the city the number potential suspects dropped from several thousands to an hundred at most. He still had to cross reference those names with Archer's patterns and remove from the list those that didn't match his physical description, but he was confident that by the end of the week he could have a list of no more thirty individuals to interrogate.

However, his priority had just changed. Finding Archer was no longer the finishing line but the starting point of a deeper investigation, one that could reach the government itself. He had to be prudent. If the situation was bad as he thought it was there was no telling who could be trusted among his colleagues. He was alone in this, at least until he found the masked vigilante and the organization that undoubtedly trained and supported him. Perhaps then he would have some allies.

The sun was barely rising when he finally left the building to go home and get some well-deserved rest. In another occasion he would have enjoyed the crisp air and the warm sunlight, but no matter how he looked at it the only things he could pay attention to were the shadows stirring menacingly toward him.

* * *

><p>The very same night of Dojima's enlightenment on Fuyuki's true nature, somebody was else was about to discover just how dangerous the city really was.<p>

Kazama Yukiko, a student in her last year of high school, was returning home from an evening out with her friends. She was later than usual but her parents gave her their permission to stay out until late in lieu of her excellent grades and the help she gave in the family's business. She was one of the most attractive girls of her school, with her long, shoulder length hair. Her refined look and her gentle character, developed by working in her family's Japanese-styled hotel, made her the image of classical beauty in her schoolmates' eyes. The kind of beauty that should never walk alone at night.

Humming to herself she walked down the nearly empty streets. Even at that hour there were still people around the central part of the city, giving a sense of relative safety. She never once bothered to look behind her shoulder and therefore she didn't notice the inconspicuous van following her at a distance.

Needless to say, Kazama Yukiko never returned home that night.

* * *

><p>Shirou sighed and closed the small book he was reading. He tossed it on the desk in front of him, near his laptop and stood up, stretching his limbs. He watched the scattered sheets of paper he wrote in the past three hours. He rubbed his temples and sighed again. The mission his father had left him was proving to be more difficult than expected. He didn't have enough information and he couldn't afford to leave the county to gather more by himself. He had to make do with the little knowledge his father managed to scrape from his travels and plan for every possible outcome.<p>

Taking the Einzbern's bounded fields lightly would spell certain death and while he had no issue with sacrificing his life, he wasn't about to throw it away senselessly either. He was doing his very best to master the subject, and in all honesty he was fully aware that he knew more on Bounded Fields than any other Magus his age whose family didn't specialize in that particular subject.

Yet he couldn't feel satisfied with just that. Not while the sister he had never met was being kept prisoner in a castle somewhere in the middle of Europe.

In the last years of his life Kiritsugu tried numerous times to break through the Einzbern's defenses and take his daughter away from the people that couldn't see her as anything more than a tool. She might not have been human, but she still was a person and the only relative Shirou had. There was no way he could leave her in that place. The Root only knew what sort of treatment she was receiving there. The Einzbern weren't pleasant people by any stretch of the imagination if Kiritsugu experience with them was any indication.

Still, Shirou knew that he couldn't take those wards with his current skills, and that getting to the level where he could would take him years without a proper teacher to guide him. He caressed the thought of revealing himself to Tohsaka and pleading with her for help, but from what he knew about her family their knowledge on Boundary Fields wasn't much better than his.

The only other family he knew about where the Matou, Sakura's family, but they were a dead line of Magi, with the exception of the elder Zouken, and there was no way he would go anywhere near that _thing._ He had nothing to offer in exchange to him anyway, and it was better if the elder Makiri ignored his existence altogether, although Shirou wouldn't bet on the ultra centenary not knowing that the son of the Magus Killer was in town. One doesn't live for over two hundred years without knowing his turf like the back of his hand after all.

The last person he could talk with was the one he didn't want to see at all. Kotomine Kirei had to be avoided at all costs, Kiritsugu had been adamant on that. If he hadn't been so debilitated by the Grail's curse he would have ended the job with the fake priest he begun during the fourth Grail War. Too bad the Magus Killer couldn't afford to bring any attention to himself and his adopted son while he was about to die and leave the boy by himself. There were already plenty of people that wanted a piece of him as it was without the need for him to go out and make some more.

That left Shirou stuck with nothing but a collection of books from his father and a bunch of suppositions. Until he reached adulthood there was no way that Taiga would let him go abroad by himself and get some firsthand information. The Einzbern's reputation also made it impossible for him to hire someone and gather it for him. Anyone fool enough to accept such a mission would be incapable of pulling it off.

Realizing that there was nothing else he could do at the present time he decided to put his notes in order and transcribe his latest work on his laptop. If any proper Magus saw Shirou use modern technology in relation to Thaumaturgy, said Magus would certainly die of outrage. The rejection of modern technological achievement was a common factor among Magi, but Kiritsugu schooled him in making use of the best tools at his disposal, and Shirou complied more than willingly. The only thing his father couldn't convince him to do was using firearms. Not that Shirou needed them anyway. His archery skills, paired with his eyes' Reinforcement made him as precise as a sniper with bow and arrows if he wanted to be. Therefore the only weapon left in his possession was Kiritsugu's old Thompson Contender and a lot of bullets that Shirou preferred not to touch at all. The feeling of dread he got from those never failed to make him sweat.

Once finished he turned to the only set of stairs, pushed the hidden trapdoor open and left his Workshop, finding himself in the inconspicuous tool shed situated in the backyard of his house. Deciding to ease his mind a little he set himself to work on more mundane matters and began working on the motorbike Taiga gave him as a gift the previous year. It didn't work but Shirou was confident he could repair it, not in small part thanks to his Structural Grasping and the skills he picked up doing small jobs here and there. It was a good method to wind down from his training while keeping himself occupied with something that wouldn't explode in his face if he screwed up even slightly.

He worked without caring for the time and he managed to nearly finish the repairs when a tingle on his skin, caused by the Boundary Field erected over his propriety, subtly announced the arrival of somebody at the front gate. Shirou glanced at his wristwatch and was surprised to see it was nearly ten in the evening. He hadn't noticed the passing of time, relying on Taiga's arrival to mark dinnertime. He scowled. It was unusual that she would arrive at such a late hour without giving him so much as a call beforehand.

He walked to the front gate where the female teacher was waiting for him on shaky legs.

"Fuji-nee! Are you all right? You look about to pass out," Shirou said with concern in his voice. The woman looked pale and her eyes were a little glazed.

"Hungryyyy," she moaned pitifully clinging to him as soon as he was in arm's reach. "I haven't had anything to eat since this morning."

"I'll have something ready in a minute if you'd just let me go. Come on, Fuji-nee. I can't cook if you keep my arms pinned like that." _CHOMP!_ "Ouch! Stop biting my arm! You can't eat me. Taiga! Let me go."

"Hmmm! Meat!"

With no little amount of effort on his part, Shirou dragged the surprisingly strong woman to the living room and then proceed to cook double the usual amount of food. A starving Taiga was a dangerous creature.

Half an hour and several thousand yen of food later Taiga patted her stomach in satisfaction.

"Aaaah~!" she breathed relieved. "That was a lifesaver. Thank you, Shirou."

"Never mind that. Why haven't you eaten anything since this morning? You know how grumpy you'll get if you skip a meal," he said massaging his abused arm. Damn, Taiga's bite did hurt.

"I know but I really didn't have any time to stop and grab a bite."

"Oh? I didn't know the life of a teacher was so intense," Shirou teased.

She looked at him strangely before shaking her head. "Right. I forgot you are not one that listens to rumors. Didn't you hear about Kazama Yukiko from third year?"

"Can't say that I did. What about her?"

"She didn't return home two nights ago after school," she explained. "The police came over to ask some questions, but they are already treating it as a runaway case. Her parents are worried about her."

"Ah. I remember her, though I don't know her all that well. Are you sure she couldn't have left on her own?

"Yukiko-chan wouldn't do something like that," Taiga protested. " She's a responsible girl and she wouldn't do something to make her family worry. I spent the day looking for her in the places I know she frequents but nobody has seen her."

"No clues at all?"

"None. Do you know how many teenagers disappear every year? Without a body or even a request for ransom the police won't put too much effort into it."

"Oh. Well there's nothing we can do as of now. I'll keep my ears open in case I might overhear something while I'm in town for work. The perk of working in a bar is that a lot of people come by. Now, it's better if you get some rest: you really look about to pass out."

Fifteen minutes later Taiga fell asleep at the table while watching TV. Shirou gently carried her to a spare room and laid her in one of his futons. Tired as she was there was no chance she would wake up before morning, but since Shirou had something planned for the night the red haired boy softly hummed an Aria that would let his guardian sleep until morning. He normally didn't like using spells that affected people's minds, but Taiga needed her rest and he didn't want her to wake up in the middle of the night and find him gone. She would definitely worry and she would demand an explanation he didn't want to give.

After calling Taiga's place to let her family know she was sleeping there he returned to his Workshop, grabbed an inconspicuous backpack and left his house silently.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later he snuck into a back alley in the central part of the city and after ensuring no one would walk on him with a makeshift Bounded Field he emptied his backpack. There was nothing inside but some black cloth and a few sheets made of different metals. Raw materials were all he needed to get the job done.<p>

"Trace on," he muttered. The contents of his bag began shifting and changing shape. The cloth coiled around him like a snake, ripping and fusing itself together in the shape of his body. The metals liquefied and swirled together forming the shape of a bow and several arrows. When the surge of Prana subsided Emiya Shirou was gone leaving the Archer in his place.

Letting more Prana flow through his circuits he reinforced his body, enhancing his strength and speed. When the process was concluded he leapt upward and to the rooftops. There were some places he needed to visit and people he wanted to meet.

"Not you again," a man with a crooked nose whined as he looked up at the black clad vigilante entering the warehouse from a high placed window. He was rather short even by Japanese standards, and his black hairs were uncombed. Even his clothes had seen better days. Everything about his appearance told that he was a small time criminal. The kind of guy that was out of place on both sides of the law.

"Good evening Nezumi-san," Archer greeted. "Excuse me if I barge in uninvited but I find myself in need of your services again."

"Oh, no. Not this time. Seriously man, every time you make me do something I end up being beaten or shot. Find somebody else," he shooed him away with a wave of his hands.

"Oh. All right then," Archer turned to leave.

"What, really?" Nezumi asked surprised by the vigilante's willingness to leave him alone.

"Of course, I would never force you to do something you don't want," he confirmed. "Though I have to admit that since I can't find somebody else for this job tonight I'd have to spend my time doing something else," he stopped and tapped his chin with his finger. "Now if I'm not mistaken the police might be interested in where certain stolen goods are being kept. Now that I think about it, it should be somewhere around here."

Behind him the crook palmed his face and groaned. "Alright, alright. Just tell me what the hell do you need and leave me alone."

"I knew you'd see it from my point of view eventually," Archer said, amused. "I'm looking for this girl," he said handing him a photo he picked from school before coming to meet him. "Kazama Yukiko. She disappeared two days ago, supposedly not by her will."

"She's your woman or what? Either way I don't know shit. Satisfied?" Archer merely leveled a glare at him. "I'll take that as a no. Fine, I'll look into it but no promises. Kids these days disappear every five minutes ya'know?"

"Thank you. I'll get in contact with you again when you find something," he said before turning and leaving for good.

"How would you know if and when I find something? Hey, for that matter how do you know where to find me every fucking time?"

"Magic," the masked boy chuckled as the shadow of the dimly lit warehouse seemingly swallowed him. The truth of that statement flew over that the annoyed man's head completely.

Back outside, Archer crouched on top of a nearby building. Pulling out a slip of paper covered in runes, he muttered something under his breath. The paper folded itself over and over again like in origami until it took the shape of a crane. It quickly spread its wing and flapped away.

Shirou would have liked to boast the idea of the small construct as his own, but it wasn't. It was something his father ripped from the cold finger of one of his targets when he was still in the business. It was merely a tracking device fueled by a Magus' Prana that would follow a target set in advance and then report back to his creator when certain conditions were met.

He always kept one of those around the crook so that he could track him quickly and use his contacts to find whatever he was looking for. He always required some _convincing_on Shirou's part, but in the end Nezumi gave in every time. Not that he didn't reward him when he helped his cause, on top of not ratting him out to the police. Still, the man was never too happy with Archer's assignments. He was the sort of man that survived by keeping his ears to the ground and staying away from any form of danger. A direct confrontation of any sort was his weak point and the bane of his existence.

For that reason Nezumi's information network was top notch. If Kazama had been kidnapped there was a good chance he could find something about her or at the very least give him some clues to work with.

Satisfied with his job Archer jumped to another rooftop and headed home. He had to attend school in the morning after all.

* * *

><p>Kazama's disappearance was the new topic of interest at school. The third year girl, ranked second in beauty according to the unofficial ranking in use at Homurahara gakuen, was known to be a cheerful but serious student that would never do something as irresponsible as running away from home, especially since she had a very close and serene relationship with her parents.<p>

Of course that didn't prevent the spreading of silly rumors about a supposed secret Yakuza boyfriend that dragged her into a ring of drug and prostitution, but those kind of nonsense came mostly from other girls envious of Kazama's popularity.

A couple of detectives were seen asking questions to Kazama's known friends, among which was the girl who scored first in the aforementioned ranking: one Tohsaka Rin.

And speaking of said Magus, Shirou noticed that she looked like she hadn't slept much lately. Her usual composure wasn't exactly in place and Shirou saw her sighing frequently when she thought nobody was looking.

Shirou was sure it wasn't a normal occurrence for her. He was sure because despite his general mistrust for her due to her heritage as a Magus and her new hostility toward him, he happened to agree wholeheartedly with Homurahara's girl ranking system. Therefore he often looked at her when she was in sight.

That knowledge, however, unsettled him. The timing of her unusual tiredness coincided with Kazama's disappearance and that alone was food for thought. He didn't want to believe it, but there was the chance that Kazama could have inadvertently witnessed something she shouldn't have, forcing Tohsaka to… dispose of her, and now that crime came back to haunt her dreams.

No. He refused to believe such a thing. He desperately wanted to believe Tohsaka was better than that, both as a person and as a Magus. Still, the matter was worthy of being looked into.

But how would he approach the matter with her? Stealthy as Archer, or openly as Emiya Shirou?

Tohsaka swore under her breath. She had spent the previous two nights searching for her friend. She couldn't accept that she went missing just after spending the evening with her and the rest of her friends. She knew that the police was already looking for her of course, but she also knew how unreliable they usually were. She just couldn't leave the fate of Yukiko in the hands of such incompetents.

Still her restless research bore no fruit. No one had seen her in the places she used to hang around, giving further credit to her belief that she didn't leave of her own volition. What made things worse was that no request for ransom had been forwarded to her relatively wealthy family. That either meant that she was already dead or in the hands of somebody who was interested in different kind of assets. Tohsaka wasn't sure which option was worse. Perhaps she should have been looking for her remains as she should have done for Kotone so many years before.

She gritted her teeth in annoyance. She was growing increasingly frustrated at her own lack of results and was beginning to consider dark thoughts as a result. She prided herself of being competent and capable of achieving any goal she set for herself, but in this case even her precious Thaumaturgy was revealing itself to be useless and that didn't help her cause.

Prideful and aloof as she was, she'd never admit such a thing, but while he knew that her heritage separated her from the rest of the girls her age she still treasured the friendship she had with them, as it was the only thing that made her feel like just a normal girl.

Tired and disappointed she decided to take a break and entered the closest bar, the Copenhagen, to have a nice cup of tea, unknowingly solving Emiya Shirou's latest dilemma.

* * *

><p>"Uh," Shirou intelligently observed as he nearly bumped on the school idol on his way out of work. "Tohsaka-san."<p>

"Emiya-kun?" She asked genuinely surprised. She hadn't expected to run into anyone she knew. The Copenhagen was a refined looking shop. Not the kind of place where high school students would normally hang out. "Fancy meeting you here. I didn't peg you for the kind of person to frequent a place like this," she commented with forced politeness. Tired as she was she didn't have any patience to waste with her school rival.

"I suppose I'm a little out of place in this place," he agreed sheepishly. "But in my defense I'm not a customer."

Tohsaka blinked a couple of time at the revelation. "Oh. I've heard you had a part-time job but I imagined it was something rougher. Isn't this job a little too delicate for a man?" She really didn't feel like teasing him but she didn't have the strength of mind to hold back her sharp tongue.

"Delicate or not, a job's a job Tohsaka-san. Besides I don't work in the actual shop."

"Of course," she agreed with a nod. "Customers would stop coming if you were the one to receive them."

Shirou left eyebrow ticked in annoyance. What was wrong with that girl? Then he noticed her tired posture and expression, as well as the stack of papers with the picture of the missing Yukiko in her hand. Putting two and two together, Shirou felt relieved that the school idol was out searching for her friend, confirming his thought on her actual good nature. Instead of rebutting her barb he reached for her coat and helped her slid off it.

In her tiredness Tohsaka complied with his gesture before her brain could kick in and decide otherwise. He surprised her even further when he showed her to a table and pulled back a chair for her to sit. Not in the mental condition to pick a better reaction, Tohsaka decided to go with the flow. Shirou then pulled a chair for himself and sat in front of her.

"I see that you have been searching for Kazama-san," he said pointing at the flyers now resting on the table before she could address the boldness of him sitting at her table united. "Did you find anything?"

All right. Tohsaka took a deep breath and steadied her mind. The lack of sleep was getting to her and she allowed herself to be caught off guard too many times in the span of a minute. Deciding that addressing the boy's behavior was of no use she questioned the motives of his interest, hoping for his continued health that it wasn't a clumsy attempt to catch her interest by showing concern for her friend.

"What is it to you?" His response was fishing out an identical stack of flyers from his bag and showed it to her.

"Fuji-n… Fujimura-sensei asked me to look into her disappearance since I know a lot of people around here. So far I haven't been able to find anything. I was hoping you had better luck than me."

"I haven't," she admitted bitterly after examining Shirou expression for a couple of seconds. "It's like she vanished into thin air."

"I see. Look, I've been asking a few people who have contacts with, well, with not so law-abiding citizens if they saw or heard anything about her."

"Really?" She asked surprised. "I never expected an honor student like you to know that sort of people," she added with a grin. Shirou sweat-dropped.

"You do know that Fujimura-sensei, my guardian mind you, is the daughter of a known Oyabun, right?"

"…" Tohsaka actually didn't know about that. _Second Owner_ or not she took little interest in the workings of the mundane society outside of her small circle of friends. Actually, while the times when Yakuza were mere criminals were long past, picturing Fujimura –Tiger- Taiga as the daughter of a Yakuza boss was almost impossible for anyone who didn't know just how much of an oddball her father Raiga really was.

"Right," he acknowledged her silence as an answer. "You could say that I grew around that sort of people so for better or for worse I know a lot of them from all around the city."

"Did they have any luck?" She asked returning to the main topic, not wanting to further uncover things she preferred not to know.

"Not really, but that means that she wasn't abducted by any group affiliated to the local families. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing but we can at the very least remove the Yakuza from the list of possible culprits."

"That doesn't clue us as to where she is. Well, knowing where she's not isn't useless information. Do you have any other idea?"

"Three actually. The first is that she was kidnapped by some creep, and while that's bad at least we can try and look for the culprit into the circle of her admirers. The second is pretty much the same but worse."

"Meaning?" Tohsaka inquired.

"She could have been abducted by an organization that deals with human trafficking. If that's the case she could be out of the country by now." Rin nodded. That was pretty much the same thing she thought it could have happened. "Thirdly," Shirou sighed, "she has been killed and her body is hidden somewhere."

Tohsaka narrowed her eyes at the bluntness of his statement. Certainly she had considered that possible outcome but preferred to hope for the better. Still, his words held meaning; in fact they made a lot more sense than anything said by anybody else, police included. Perhaps…

"It makes sense. So Emiya-kun, what do you say about helping me looking for her from tomorrow on?" She proposed, not really believing he would accept.

"Yes, that was the same idea I had. If we work together as a team we can cover more ground and make the search much faster. How about we meet tomorrow at lunch on the school's rooftop and discuss how to proceed?"

"Sure, that would be great," she admitted more to herself than to him. In her dislike for him as her school nemesis she had forgotten Shirou's reputation of being a Good Samaritan, but she was now glad she had found someone both willing and apparently resourceful enough to help her. She might actually have to reconsider her initial opinion of him.

"Good. Now, what do you say if we order something to drink? Neko-san over there is already glaring dagger at me like I was a freeloader. We'd better hurry or she might kick out of the store."

"I heard that, Emi-yan," said daughter of the store owner said from behind the counter. "Don't think that just because you are with a friend I'm not going to put you in your place."

Shirou winced at her words. Neko-san was a nice person but she had a mean streak sometimes. Apparently she was in a particularly foul mood lately and that didn't help at all.

"See? That's what I meant," he added under his breath so that only Tohsaka could hear him. "So what would you like to have? Is milk tea still your favorite?"

"How do you know that?" She asked suspiciously.

"Hm? How do I know what?"

"How do you know what my favorite drink is?"

Shirou looked at her for a moment before realizing that he just blurted something he knew about her he wasn't supposed to have any knowledge about. A light blush formed on his cheeks as he stammered an answer.

"W-well… You have many admirers in our school. You'd be surprised by the number of things people know about you."

"Oh? And why exactly are you privy to what my admirers know about me? "

"It-it can't be helped," he protested waving both hands in front of his face. " I'd have to be both deaf and blind not to hear what they constantly talk about."

"Hmmm….," she looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Well I guess that makes sense," she said with a falsely sweet smile. "Though I'm sure we'll have the chance to discuss what else you know about me in the future, right Emiya-kun?"

Shirou could only nod in response, internally sighing in relief of being left off the hook even if only temporarily. He should have known that allying himself with Tohsaka could be the worst idea he ever had, but at the same time he couldn't dislike the thought of spending some time with her. There were boys in his school that would gladly give an arm for the privilege he had just been granted. The poor idiots truly had no idea just how close to Hell their imagined Heaven truly was and luckily they probably would never have to find out.

That was a burden that Emiya Shirou would have to shoulder all by himself.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 4 - END<p> 


	6. Behind the Masks

**CHAPTER 5 – BEHIND THE MASKS**

(Beta: RavingScholar)

* * *

><p>Emiya Shirou was a person who slept very little. Yet his sleep was never void of dreams. In fact, it could be said that every time he simply closed his eyes for a period of time longer that what is required to blink, there was <em>something <em>reaching out to him_._

_Swords_.

They were always there, just beneath the layer of conscious thought. Every time he slept images of swords filled his mind. They were mostly a blur and once awake he couldn't recall many details but he was nonetheless aware of the contents of his dreams.

_Swords_.

For the longest time he wondered why he dreamed of such things. It didn't bother him at all, just made him curious. In the end he simply accepted that oddity as a part of him. Another trait that made Emiya Shirou who he was.

_Swords_.

He dreamed of them almost every night.

Almost.

* * *

><p><em>He was back in that infernal scenario. The world was ablaze. Flames reached to the sky, howling their rage to an uncaring god.<em>

_The earth was alight and in contrast to the darkened sky. A black sun shone upon that Hell, cursing everything that bathed in its light._

__It Hurts!_

_Everything turned to ashes as the fire consumed everything in its path._

__It Hurts!_

_Pain and anguish filled the air even though there was no longer anybody to perceive those feeling._

__It Hurts!_

_Or was there?_

__Scream!_

_He could feel it: a presence, all around him. It was basking in the feeling of despair, savoring it like wine, chewing at it like the most delicious slice of raw meat, inhaling it like it was a floral scent._

__ Suffer!_

_Everything about this… existence… was sufferance and despair. It screamed its hatred to the world. Cursing and being cursed in return._

__ Die!_

_And yet among all of those curses…._

__***e *e!_

* * *

><p>Shirou bolted upright, a silent scream dying in his throat and his forehead was drenched in sweat. It had happened again. It wasn't a common occurrence for Shirou, but every once in awhile he returned to that time. He wasn't scared by the memory per se but the feeling of guilt never failed to upset him.<p>

He survived where countless others did not. That was the sin he had to live with.

Even thought he was nothing more than a child when it happened, his conscience was tormented by his powerlessness and cursed his cowardice. He hadn't helped anyone. Selfishly, he had wished for only his salvation, and that wish had been granted.

Even if, rationally, he knew that he wasn't at fault he couldn't help but feel responsible, if not outright guilty, for all of those lives that hadn't been saved.

He wiped away the sweat with the back of his back and shook away the remnants of the dream. There was no use in wallowing in pointless self-loathing. If there was anything he could do, it was make sure that such things never happened again.

He glanced at the small watch on the nightstand. 3:30 in the morning. It was an ungodly hour even by his standards, but there was no way he could go back to sleep again. He could just feel the silent taint of the nightmare calling out to him, goading him into closing his eyes again.

Nope. He'd definitely had enough sleep for that night.

With nothing better to do he decided to take a bath and get a little more progress in his Thaumaturgy. For a change he went to the dojo instead than his workshop. The underground structure had a gloomy atmosphere that wouldn't help him get rid of the remnants of his dreams. The dojo was definitely more pleasant and there was no way any of his usual guests would stubble upon him doing magic that late in the night… or was it early morning?

He sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, on the polished wooden floor. With practiced ease he opened his circuit and let his _Od _trickle. His body began to warm as the energy changed from its raw state to a more the elaborate one called _Prana_.

He let the power flow through him like water, circulating through his body with no specific purpose. Once he finally cleared his mind he began the _'activation sequence'._

Normally, since his abilities were based on an extremely refined micromanagement of his energies, he only needed to active one of his circuits. However, since there was always the chance that he might needed to use more at a moment's notice, he made sure to exercise them regularly.

One. Two. Three…. Ten… Twenty…. Twenty-seven.

Twenty-seven channels for his magic to express itself and give shape to his mysteries. More than the average number that could be found in most Magi even if the quality wasn't the best.

Using them together for an extended period of time was tiring but relatively easy. What he wanted to accomplish, however, was a little more difficult.

Magic circuits were a wondrous thing, but for all the power they could channel they were also extremely weak against specific attacks. Kiritsugu's '_Origin Bullets_' for instance, specifically targeted active circuits and through the ability of _Severing and Binding_ destroyed them beyond recovery, forever crippling the abilities of any Magus unfortunate enough to be hit.

In addition, Magic Circuits are part of a Magus' soul and are a foreign element inside the human body. Their prolonged use would cause overheating, and eventually damage themselves and the body of the user.

To prevent overextended damage from a specialized attack and to minimize those effects, Shirou decided to gain a better control over his circuits in order to be capable of using only the exact amount needed to perform a certain feat. It was both a safety measure and energy savvy.

Of course, much like everything else he did, it was extremely simple in concept and a lot more difficult in practice. It wasn't unlike learning how to use each finger of both hands and feet separately.

And he royally sucked at it.

Still, he put himself to it. As a secondary form of training, it was good and not nearly as dangerous as most of the other things he did. The perfect exercise if one wanted to focus his mind away from other less than pleasant thoughts.

He spent two hours doing just that with little result. Well, it wasn't like he expected any sudden improvement. Things like that required years of continuous practice. At the very least he had managed to shrug off the unpleasant feeling left behind by his nightmares.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when he left the Dojo for the kitchen to get breakfast ready. For once he could let Sakura sit back and enjoy the first meal of the day without having to work for it.

Matou Sakura. That was another reason for Shirou to get caught by thoughts.

When he first met the purple haired girl, he didn't know that the Matou used to be a family of Magi. Initially he was happy when he found out because that meant that he could probably talk about Thaumaturgy with her if she was aware of her ancestry.

Luckily, he never had the chance to do that before seeing the old Zouken.

Never before he had been so glad that the Makiri's predisposition for Magic had run dry. He saw him –it, only from afar but that was nearly enough to make him vomit. He wasn't sure just _what_ Matou Zouken had turned himself into, but Shirou's high sensitivity caught up with his unnaturalness right away. If that was the apex of what the Matou Thaumaturgy was capable of, then he was all the more glad Sakura and Shinji would never have anything to do with it.

Matou Shinji: yet another subject of worry for the red haired Magus. He had befriended him when they were in middle school and by that time the boy could be already be defined an arrogant prick. Still, a bad friend was still a friend to Shirou, and for that reason he had weathered Shinji's oppressive nature, if only to curb his more aggressive behavior, spare others from his worse outbursts and himself from potential repercussions.

What made it worse was Shinji's obvious dislike for Sakura. Initially, Shirou didn't pay it too much attention. Being siblings isn't necessary synonymous of having a good relationship, but in the last couple of year things had obviously taken a downward curve. In fact, just the previous week he had to step between Shinji and Sakura when he felt that the male Matou was about to resort to physical violence.

Neither sibling ever explained just what was wrong between them. Shinji, being his usual charming self, just told him bluntly to mind his own business, and Sakura just blamed herself for upsetting her brother in one way or another.

It could very possibly be that Sakura's passive behavior rubbed Shinji wrong and made her an easy outlet for his pent up rage, but Shirou wasn't convinced it was only that. Not that he had any reason to think so besides his wish to believe that siblings couldn't be so much at odds with each other without a concrete reason behind it.

However, Shirou felt he had no right to intrude in their relationship and couldn't force either of them to come clean and tell him just what was going on. Nonetheless, he made sure to be nearby one of them whenever he could so that he could prevent any situation from escalating. It wasn't much, but as an outsider it was all that he could do until one of them (Shinji) crossed the line of acceptability.

He also made sure to check on Sakura for visible bruises or suspicious stiffness but so far nothing indicated that Shinji had ever actually hit her, and Sakura always wore a relaxed and peaceful smile.

Perhaps he was just worrying over nothing. Yeah, that was probably the case. What could be wrong with a girl that always smiled that serenely?

…

* * *

><p><span>_<span>/Interlude: Façade

A damp, dimly lit room. Stench of rotten flesh saturated the air. A sound of wriggling _things_ echoed among the humid walls.

The Material laid naked on her back in the damp, worm filled basement of the Matou house. Her body was being assaulted by countless viscid bugs that feasted on her like a lump of rotten meat. Her eyes were empty, void of any emotion, as if what was happening wasn't matter of concern.

And how could it be otherwise?

She was just a vessel for the dying house of Matou to pass on their magical heritage to the next generations.

She was a tool: discarded by her father; forgotten by her mother; disregarded by her sister; hated by her brother; defiled by her grandfather.

She had nothing. No purpose beyond which was given to her. She should have just given in and allowed what little was left of her personality to crumble and be digested by the never-ending onslaught of worms that crawled over and into her body.

She should have…but she couldn't. She couldn't take the easy way out. Not until _he_ was there. Even if she had to bear that burden; even if she, dirty and tainted as she was, could never be his; even if she had to lie to him and make him believe she was clean and pure. So long as he smiled for her she would keep up the façade and bear the life of a rotting human.

So long as she could return to him.

'_Senpai….'_

…

Interlude: end\_

* * *

><p>The bell rang, signaling the end of the morning lessons. Students began leaving the classroom for lunch, a few rushing to the cafeteria hoping to beat the rest of the crowd that would undoubtedly gather there with similar hopes and identical hurry.<p>

Shirou had fortunately prepared his own lunch as usual that morning, thanks not in small part to his reduced sleeping time. He made something for himself, Sakura and the constantly broke Fuji-nee. Seriously how that woman could deplete her allowance like that at her age was a mystery to him.

…

Wait a minute… Why did she still even receive an allowance at her age in the first place?

Shirou shook his head free of questions that couldn't possibly have an intelligent answer and made his way to the rooftop where he had to meet with Tohsaka.

He wasn't agitated. _'There's no reason to be agitated because I'm going to spend lunch with the school idol. Nope. None at all.'_ Doing his best to convince himself of that he reached the door to the rooftop and pushed it open.

His breath got caught in his throat.

Rin was already there. Her feminine features were set in a determined expression. One hand was holding the chain-link fence that surrounded the roof and her gaze was looking far away, toward the city.

It was no wonder she was the most sought after girl in school. She was stunning in a way that went beyond her appearance. The way she held herself, the way she drove herself toward her goals. Even from the little interaction he had with her at school he could tell that she was a woman a cut above the rest. She had her flaws, he knew as much, but that didn't hinder his admiration for her.

"Emiya-kun?" Her voice snapped him out of his thought. "What are you doing standing there?"

"Sorry," he apologized. "It looked like you were thinking very hard about something. I didn't want to interrupt."

"Don't worry about that. We agreed to meet here so it's not a problem. Now, shall we get to work?"

He emptied his bag, which contained two copies of Fuyuki city map, a couple of pens, and a block notes. Tohsaka elegantly arched an eyebrow. It looked like Shirou had actually thought things through.

They sat down and began hypothesizing the point where Yukiko could have been kidnapped, judging from the direction she should have taken to return home from the locale where she had spent the evening. From there they outlined the most likely zone and split it into two parts to investigate one each.

They were about to decide on a time to meet that evening when their discussion was disrupted by the most unexpected of sounds.

**_*Grooooowl*_**

He blinked and looked up from the maps to see Tohsaka frown as she tried her best to appear focused on what Shirou had been writing up until that moment. Only the slightest of blushes on her cheeks betrayed her as the source of that sound.

"Tohsaka you… haven't you eaten lunch yet?"

"Of course not. If I went to the cafeteria there was no way I could get here in time and I –what?" She looked at the bento Shirou just picked from his bag and offered her. She opened it and she was surprised to see a really appetizing lunch. Despite her hunger she was about to protest. She didn't like that he would go without lunch for her, but to her further surprise he just fished yet another bento from his bag.

"I figured something like this could happen so I came prepared," he explained.

Tohsaka blinked. Did he actually just prepare two lunch boxes in the eventuality that she couldn't get her own? That was way beyond being thoughtful. It was creepy in a stalkerish way. He also knew what her favorite drink was. Could he be that he was one of those creeps?

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted her train of thought as he had mistaken the reasons for her doubtfulness. "It's not like I cooked it specifically for you. I always prepare my own lunch and, more often than not, one for Fuji-nee and Sakura as well." She relaxed a little at his explanation.

Wait, did he just say-

"Sakura?"

"Oh. I suppose you wouldn't know her. She's Matou Shinji younger sister. She always comes by in the morning and evening to help around since I live alone and my house is very big."

"Ah," she said taken aback. "So, she's your girlfriend?"

If possible, Shirou would have choked on air.

"What? No! Why would you think that? She's just a childhood friend. What gave you that idea?"

"Why else would a girl come over at your house twice every day? Are you seriously that dumb?"

"It's not like that," he protested a little less hastily than before. "She's just a friend and a very nice person."

"Whatever you say, Emiya-kun," she smiled condescendingly like she was speaking to a retarded child. "Anyway, thank you for the lunch. Itadakimasu."

"Itadakimasu," he agreed, more than happy to change topic.

They ate while discussing the last details of "Operation: Rescue Yukiko", and agreed to meet that evening at the crossroad that connected the two residential areas where they lived. From there, they would proceed together to the town center.

With that settled Shirou left. as he had promised Issei to look at some malfunctioning appliances before lunch break ended.

Tohsaka watched the red haired boy leave the rooftop by himself. When he closed the door behind him she allowed a faint smile to form on her lips.

"You have a good friend, Matou Sakura. … I'm glad, little sister…"

* * *

><p>A nightmare. It could only be described as such. There was no way that what Ryuudo Issei's brain was telling him could possibly be true.<p>

Emiya Shirou was, in his eyes, the only other reliable human being under the age of twenty he had the privilege of knowing. Being himself mature beyond his age, he always had troubles relating to other students on a personal level. While that made it possible for him to become the president of the student council even though he was still a first year, it also marginalized him from the rest of the student's body.

Shirou was a positive exception to that rule. Issei figured that his upbringing forced him to grow faster than most, and while he wasn't happy about what his friend had to go through, he was glad that he came out a better man because of it. He was reliable, if a little naïve, and usually above the temptations of teenage hormones.

Oh, he didn't delude himself into thinking Shirou was a priest, but he was aware that he didn't think with his… lower head.

That's why he couldn't accept what was happening as reality. There was just no way.

He had no intention to eavesdrop or anything. He just needed to talk with him, which is why he went looking for him on the rooftop, where another classmate said he saw him heading. What he found there defied belief.

Tohsaka Rin. The name alone sent shivers down his spine. He knew something was wrong with that girl, and that wasn't limited to the façade she put up while he school. He could swear that she had an… aura, for lack of a better word, of unnaturalness around her that only he seemed capable of perceiving.

Lately, he had come to believe that Shirou too was able to sense it to a degree, as he kept his distance from her, and that brought Issei a great deal of reassurance.

But now that comfortable illusion had shattered. Tohsaka Rin and Emiya Shirou, two people who had had no previous interaction to the best of his knowledge, were having lunch together. A lunch that Shirou himself had prepared for her by the look of it.

What was the world coming to? Had the boy suddenly fallen to the witch's charms? What did the accursed woman want from his friend? How was he going to rescue him from the witch's clutches without coming out as a creep?

No, there was no way around it. The best solution was to voice his concerns about this situation directly. He would wait for Shirou to show up, as had promised, before the third period and then he would corner him and get the truth out of him.

Yes, that was the best course of action, and the Student's Council room was the best place to put that plan into motion. No one would disturb them there.

Without waiting he left the duo (he refused to use the word _couple_ even in his mind) and went to set up the stage for the confrontation.

* * *

><p>Shirou didn't know exactly what to think about the current situation. There were rumors, of course, about the President of the student body, but he never gave them too much credit. Just because a young man doesn't drool after every vaguely attractive girl in sight it didn't necessarily mean he played for the other team.<p>

He was convinced of that.

Not that there would have been anything even remotely wrong if Issei had that type of interest for people of his own gender. A friend's a friend after all, and if that's how Issei was he could live with it.

Unless, of course, he was the object of said interest. That would make things between them seriously awkward.

"Uuum… Issei?" Shirou asked fearfully. He was currently pinned between the door he just closed behind him and a serious looking student body president, whose arm was preventing him from moving in the only direction not occluded by a wall. "Is something the matter?"

"Shirou do you… like girls?"

Oh no. By the Root, the Akasha and everything in between. No!

"I… I do…, " he stuttered, hoping that his admission would prevent the uncomfortable discussion to develop any further. Sadly, it wasn't to be.

"Anyone in particular?" He inquired. His face was getting uncomfortably close to Shirou's.

"There… are a few," he admitted.

"Is Tohsaka Rin one of them?"

"She… might be…," he conceded, although the evident blush on his cheeks wasn't as vague as an answer. "Issei I-"

"Shirou! You mustn't," he declared suddenly grabbing him by the collar of his uniform. "No matter how attractive a girl Tohsaka is she's no good for you. That woman is dangerous."

Oh. "Issei, what is this all about?" He asked, finally realizing, and hoping, that perhaps it wasn't how initially looked like. Which was a relief.

"I'm sorry," Issei apologized as he stepped back from the uncomfortable looking redhead. "I unwillingly saw the two of you having lunch together earlier. I had no idea the two of you were already so close. I'm sorry, Shirou. I have failed you."

"Issei, it isn't like that," Shirou protested vehemently. "We were just discussing something."

"I'm sorry," he quickly added. "It's not my place to question your relationships. If anyone knows what he's doing among the students here that would be you."

"I'm not sure if you are giving me too much credit of too little sometimes, Issei. Nevemind. It's not a problem if you were looking out for me. Now, the reason I met with Tohsaka is…."

* * *

><p><span>Five minutes later….<span>

"I see," Issei said with a nod of his head after hearing Shirou's explanation. "As I suspected! If it wasn't for the fact that you would help her in any case, she would have undoubtedly used her charms to lure you into doing her bidding."

"Issei, aren't you being unfair to Tohsaka-san? I mean, what did she ever do to warrant so much distrust?"

Issei blinked.

Twice.

Shirou raised a very good point. He was supposed to judge people by their actions. But his father also taught him to trust his instincts.

"You have a point there. Actually she never did anything wrong, unless you count faking her character at school. It's just that she gives me a strange…. vibe I think is the correct term. Yes, she gives me a bad vibe."

Shirou arched an eyebrow. Could it be…?

"Did anyone else ever give you that vibe?" He asked.

"Um! Matou Shinji gives me the same feeling although it's lot weaker. Actually he would be the reason for my opinion of Tohsaka. If such an openly unpleasant character has a fraction of that effect on me then I wonder just what kind of person hides behind Tohsaka's mask."

"I see," Shirou finally commented. He had a suspicion about Issei's issues with Tohsaka but he preferred not indulge in that line of thought without any substantial proof to back it up. "Although that's not much of a reason to distrust someone like that. Trusting your instinct his all good and fine, but shouldn't you judge people from their actions?"

"You do raise a very good point, Shirou. … Very well it's decided then," he firmly declared. "In order to discover Tohsaka's true nature and eventually protect you from her wiles, should she prove to have ill intentions, I, Ryuudo Issei, will join the two of you in your endeavor this evening."

"Really?" Shirou asked surprised. "I mean, it's okay if you want to help but are you sure you can put aside your dislike for Tohsaka? It would be disruptive if the two of you were at each other's neck all the time."

"Don't worry Shirou. I'm perfectly capable of getting along with Tohsaka for an entire evening if needed be."

Whatever objection Shirou could have raised was cut by the bell, signaling the beginning of the next period.

"Oh, is it so late already? We never got around doing those repairs. Nevermind. Shirou we should leave further discussions for this evening. I will come to your house around eight. Is that fine with you?"

"All right," he agreed. _'Let's just hope that Tohsaka will be fine with this as well.'_

* * *

><p><span>THAT EVENING<span>

The quiet atmosphere inside Emiya's household was suddenly broken by the sound of clattering steel.

Shirou and Taiga turned around to see Sakura, a little pale in the face, picking up a few spoons she had been putting away after dinner from where they had fallen on the ground.

"Sakura, are you all right?" Shirou asked.

"Ah, yes Senpai. My hand just slipped," she quickly answered. Shirou nodded in response.

"What were you saying Shirou?" Taiga asked, returning the conversation to the point it was dropped moments before.

"Right. Like I said I'm going to meet with Tohsaka-san in around an hour."

"A date with the school idol? Shirou, I'm impressed."

To his credit Shirou didn't dignify her teasing at all.

"We are going to search for clues on Kazama-san's disappearance. Besides, Issei will come with us too."

As they discussed the likelihood of it being a romantic outing, neither of them paid any attention the other person in the room.

Sakura's hands were clenched into fists and shaking badly. Then, judging from the look on her face it seemed like she went from utterly terrified to having suddenly had an epiphany.

"Senpai," she began, "can I come too? I'd really like to help."

In the years they had known each other Shirou and Sakura never seen each other much outside of the Emiya's household and the archery club. To tell the truth, neither of them had that many friends to begin with, and being a year apart they obviously didn't even share the same classes. Therefore, the concept of going out at night with her Senpai, although not being even remotely close to a date, was quite bold on her part. She was scared he would turn her offer down, but she was scared even more of not being with him while he was around Tohsaka. She knew very well that if the older girl set her eyes on her secret crush there was nothing she could do to keep her away from him, but there was no way she would just let that happen.

Shirou pondered her offer for a moment. On a principle she didn't like the idea of involving Sakura in anything even remotely dangerous, and while he had no intention to wander in a part of the town where she could have an unwanted encounter he still preferred to leave her where it was absolutely safe. Then again if he admitted out loud that there was a chance of something bad happening then Fuji-nee would ground him as well. Therefore the only thing he could answer was –

"Sure. I would appreciate it, Sakura."

The resulting smile form the purple haired girl illuminated the room as bright as daylight.

* * *

><p>"…"<p>

"…"

"…"

"…"

The foursome looked at each other in awkward silence although Tohsaka was sending inquisitive glances mostly in Shirou's direction. Sakura fidgeted, clearly feeling out of place but determined not to step back, while Issei simply adjusted his glasses on his nose with his usual detached coolness.

"They volunteered to help," Shirou said as if that could explain everything. … Which it did, right? "Tohsaka, this is Matou Sakura, Shinji's younger sister and a good friend of mine."

The girls looked at each other in a moment of awkward silence.

Shirou was perplexed. It almost felt like those two knew already each other and there was bad blood between them. His suspicion, however, was dispelled when Tohsaka spoke.

"Pleased to meet you Matou-san," Tohsaka said bowing her head a little.

"L-Likewise," Sakura answered timidly. It didn't strike Shirou as something odd since Sakura was naturally shy and soft-spoken around strangers. Issei on the other hand knew Sakura already, having met her when he first visited Shirou's place years before.

"Well then," Shirou said. "I suggest we proceed as planned and split in two groups."

"Wouldn't it be better if we divided in four and covered even more ground?" Tohsaka asked.

"Actually I'd feel better if we worked in pairs," Shirou explained. "Seeing as there's a kidnapper on the loose I think it's best if we don't leave any girl walking around at night by herself."

"Oh? You weren't concerned about that when I was supposed to be the only girl around, Emiya-kun," Tohsaka pointed out flatly.

To tell the truth she was right. Shirou wasn't worried for her since he knew that Tohsaka, being a Magus and all, could definitely watch after herself. The problem was that he couldn't tell it to her face. Unbeknownst to him, the purple haired girl behind him smiled a little. Knowing that her Senpai was concerned for her well being when he wasn't for the other girl's made her feel special and that made… something inside her feel … partially satisfied. For the moment.

"Well, I can understand that you reserve a special treatment for your girlfriend," she continued.

Two faces illuminated the night with their blush.

"T-Tohsaka! It's not like that," he protested but she simply smirked back at him.

Sakura didn't even think about trying to deny her allegation. She knew it was untrue but she didn't mind at all if other girls believed he was already spoken for. In fact it suited her just fine.

She could at the very least dream about it.

The awkward moment was fortunately broken by Issei clearing his throat loudly. "Yes, well. If we all agree about this arrangement then we should proceed. It's already quite late and if we delay any longer it might become too late to question enough people."

"Right," Shirou agreed hastily both wanting to put the current embarrassment behind and get things started as well.

The quartet made their way to the town center, still bustling with life and activities. Once on the spot they divided in two groups as agreed. Shirou went with Sakura, as it would have been awkward for her to go with Issei since he barely knew him. Therefore, much to his dismay, it fell on the student's representative the burden of keeping Tohsaka company in her endeavor.

Needless to say, he didn't like it one bit, but thought better than voicing his opinion. For one, he too understood that he had no reason to be paired with the younger girl; and two, the reason for his presence in the first place was getting to understand the mysterious school idol better.

With that in mind he swallowed his distaste for the situation at hand and followed the witch-in-disguise through the populated streets of Fuyuki.

* * *

><p>Matou Sakura was living a dream.<p>

She was walking in town beside her Senpai. Granted, the occasion wasn't the most cheerful and they both had something else to do than focus on each other but she never really believed that she would one day share something with him beside the small, artificial family-like connection she had with him while in his house.

She knew it was transitory and bound not to last but for someone like her who never expected a single good thing in life it was like a dream come true.

Walking beside him, close enough to feel his body warmth was already giving her a feeling of happiness she never once thought she would experience.

She almost _–almost-_ dared to link her arm with his.

* * *

><p>Ryuudo Issei was living a nightmare.<p>

Never once had he thought that one day he would be walking around town with Tohsaka Rin. If only the day before someone had told him such a thing he would have either laughed or called them crazy.

The latter was more probable, as he didn't find the slightest tinge of fun in the thought of spending time with that woman.

Rationally he knew that he had no reason to be so wary of her and he loathed himself for that. Not even the mask she wore at school justified such distrust on his part, but when he was in her presence he never failed to feel like he was about…. to be burned… or frozen… or buried… or drowned… or blown away.

Sometimes everything at the same time.

What worried him wasn't the sensation per se, but the fact that he couldn't pinpoint just what made him feel that way. As a result he trusted his instinct and kept his eyes open every time she was nearby.

Yes. No matter the reason, Ryuudo Issei was firmly convinced that, one way or another, Tohsaka Rin was dangerous on some level, and until he figured out how and why he wouldn't drop his guard around her in the slightest.

Sometimes he felt like that around other people too. Matou Shinji was just an example. That guy felt and acted like an arrogant _worm_.

There had also been a few visitors around the temple that gave a similar odd feeling, although it was different from person to person and with varying degrees of intensity.

Actually it also happened, once or twice, that Shirou too would make him feel uneasy in a similar manner, although it was very different from Tohsaka and several times weaker.

When it came to Shirou it felt like he was about… about to be _cut_ to ribbons just by being in his presence. When that happened he made sure to be needed somewhere else until the following day, when things would be back to normal.

He figured it might have been something that got rubbed off on Shirou by someone he knew, since it was always a passing feeling that didn't suit his gentle friend's nature at all. After all, he frequented a lot of different people, even Yakuza and the like. It wasn't unthinkable that he got tainted by that mysterious aura when he got close to somebody else.

As he kept thinking those things he never once lost sight of Tohsaka. Even as they split to question more passerby and store owners he made sure the keep her in sight at all times.

What he saw left him positively perplexed. Tohsaka was worried sick, to the point that even her carefully crafted mask of superiority and aloofness couldn't hide it completely.

Well, if anything else it proved that even witches had a heart.

* * *

><p><em><span>At the same time – Unknown Location<span>_

Kazama Yukiko stirred awake, or something along those lines. Her memories were blurred, unclear. She knew that she had been kidnapped. She remembered the damp cloth around her mouth before losing consciousness, she remembered strange men moving her around, and she remembered countless other girls locked in a cell alongside her, equally scared and confused.

She remembered it all, and she didn't care.

What had happened?

She remembered being scared out of their minds but now it felt like it didn't matter at all. Her confused mind realized that they could and probably would do very bad things to her but the part of her brain that ruled over fear refused to start up.

She knew she should be worried even about that but she just couldn't.

Had they drugged her? No, it didn't feel like it.

What had happened then? She remembered something, someone. A man. Or was it a woman? She couldn't tell. That person was dressed strangely, like he was a character from a fairy tale.

There was a woman with that person. She too was dressed in an odd purplish hooded robe, just like a witch from a western fairy tale she had read about when she was a kid.

She had said something to her, whispered words in her ear that she couldn't understand, and from that point onward things didn't matter anymore. From that moment, reality and dreams were indistinguishable to her and she couldn't remember much.

Only one word had stuck in her mind, perhaps because it was so foreign.

What was it again?

Ah, right.

'…_. Caster….'_

* * *

><p>Author notes:<p>

Whoops. Bombshell? Is this Caster, _The Caster_, or is this somebody else taking a mantle like Shirou and accidentally robbing a Servant of her title? And what's wrong with Issei?

That shouldn't be difficult to understand. Talking about Issei, he's a severely underused character. It always struck me as odd that he was able to see behind Rin's mask just like that. In this story he will have a more important role and the reason behind his dislike for Rin explained further.

Now, to answer a few questions:

I included Ryutaro Dojima and Toru Adachi from Persona 4 because I needed a set of secondary characters and didn't want to lose days to think about them. There is no connection whatsoever with their original story beside their background and overall character.

Also, I've found a couple of beta editor although, just like promised, I decided to upload the newest chapter first and update later to reduce the time. So if you prefer to read the story once it has been properly edited I would advise to come back when you see the word 'Edited' right under the chapter title,

That's all for now.

Over and out.


	7. The Dilemma of Justice

**CHAPTER 6 – THE DILEMMA OF JUSTICE**

(Beta: None)

* * *

><p>A man stood in the darkness of an alley, looking out to the crowded streets. The artificial lights of the city at night weren't enough to illuminate the narrow space between buildings making it was the perfect place to observe without being seen.<p>

With his back leaning against the concrete walls he picked up a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number. Three rings later somebody picked up but no voice was heard.

"It's me," the man spoke. "The bait seems to have worked."

"_I did not expect any less,_" the person on the other side of the line finally spoke. The voice wasn't distorted in any way but it still was impossible to identify the gender or the age of the speaker.

"I don't understand. If you wanted this one, why go after the other?"

"_You need not to concern yourself with things like that," _the voice said, and although he detected no change in tone , the man could swear he picked an '_or else'_ somewhere in that sentence.

"Very well," he said after a calculated moment of pause. "I will continue observing then. Or should I start with the second part of the plan already?"

"_There is no need to hurry. Let the prey squirm a little more"_

"You are treating this one with particular care. Why the special treatment?"

"…"

"Right, I'll mind my own business. Whatever. It's not like I give a damn so long as you pay up. Your other… associates, however, won't be happy with what you have in mind for them."

"_They are… expendable," _the voice said calmly.

"You are saying that like I wasn't," the man chuckled darkly.

"_If anything, the awareness of your own limited usefulness makes you less so. And speaking of associates, what is the situation with yours?"_

"I've got things under control," the man said confidently. "You'll have no problem from them on this. Still, I'm afraid that there might be a third player in the game."

"_What do you mean?"_

"Somebody has been asking the wrong kind of questions lately, and I'm afraid that no amount of money can buy loyalty. On the other hand it can loose more than a few tongues."

"_Do you have any idea of who might be taking an interest in my businesses?"_

"Well, for what I know you haven't crossed any of the local groups, so we can safely exclude them from the list. My colleagues are completely out of the loop and I would know if it was any different. That either means you have someone else out to get you specifically that I'm not aware about or…"

"_Or?"_

The man grinned in the darkness. "What do you know about the guy that goes by Archer?"

* * *

><p>"ACHOOO!" Shirou sneezed loudly. "Ugh. Am I coming up with a cold?"<p>

He had just returned from a fruitless night of investigations. Maybe it was nothing but it was better be careful. He couldn't afford to be bedridden at the moment.

Wearily he made his way back to his room and prepared to get his well deserved night of sleep. He wasn't happy with the results, or lack thereof, and neither were his friends. Even Sakura, who never once met the girl was obviously upset, even if only for Shirou's sake.

Even Issei, who had joined the group for entirely different reasons was quite discouraged. On the way back he looked pensive and he hadn't made the slightest remark against Tohsaka.

Speaking of Tohsaka, she was the one who took it worse. She was clearly downhearted and tired, both physically and mentally. When they accompanied her back home, before doing the same with Sakura, she barely thanked them for the help.

It wasn't like Shirou was expecting any immediate result from that particular avenue but he still felt discouraged that nothing had come out of it at all.

Now he was lying in his futon and couldn't sleep at all despite the sense of tiredness washing over him. His mind kept replaying any possible route a kidnapper could have taken from Kazama last know location.

Knowing it would serve no purpose he forced himself not to think about it. He needed to rest properly if he wanted to be of any use the following day.

* * *

><p>In another part of the city, not too far away from Shirou's place, Ryuudo Issei lay awake in his own futon, his mind busy with thoughts.<p>

Tohsaka unnerved him. Issei had no problem to admit as much. Yet he had to also to admit that she was both capable and self-reliant in ways he never even contemplate before. He too was a mature and disciplined individual, but, differently from the girl he dislike so much without real reason, he never truly had anything to strive for. He always gave his best for the sake of giving his best, and while many girls at school considered him cool he believed himself to be a rather dull individual.

His keen mind could appreciate the irony of the situation. He had started the evening with the purpose of finding Tohsaka's faults and ended up reflecting on his own.

Having a good insight could be a double edged weapon after all. Eh, his old man would get a kick out of it if he found out, and he would undoubtedly give him one of those old pieces of wisdom they were both extremely fond of.

'_Ah, well. It can be helped,'_ he said to himself before returning to his previous line of thought.

While in the end he couldn't find out enough to reconsider or reaffirm his opinion of Tohsaka he had to admit that the girl wasn't the evil mastermind he pictured her to be.

Not all the time at least.

Yes, perhaps Shirou was right and he should give her the benefit of doubt. If anything, someone who cared for a friend to the point of actively search for her day and night couldn't be all that bad.

And speaking of the missing girl, their small quest bore no result. If the girl had really been abducted, like Shirou and Tohsaka were convinced of, then the kidnapper had done a very good job. It had to be expected, otherwise the police would have taken a different approach to the case.

It was sad to admit it but unless they had a stroke of luck they probably wouldn't find anything about her and, even though he didn't know the missing girl personally, he still felt a bitter taste in his mouth.

Issei blinked and then considered his current feelings. Was that the kind of emotion that prompted Shirou to look out for other people's safety and happiness? He couldn't be sure of it, but once again he was forced to acknowledge that both Shirou and Tohsaka were people with a deeper connection to life than he had ever bothered to establish.

He felt ashamed that he was having a positive learning experience from that situation but it appeared that one's misfortune was another one's fortune, regardless of what either parts wanted.

Resolving to speak with his father for guidance the next morning he finally fell asleep.

* * *

><p>X<p>

Tohsaka was asleep, too tired to remain awake and dwell on nefarious thoughts. Still, her sleep was all but peaceful. Her mind was tormented by memories of her own failures.

Once again, when she was needed the most, she couldn't do anything.

Not for Kotone.  
>Not for Sakura.<br>Not for her father.  
>Not for her mother.<p>

Was everyone she cared about fated to be taken away from her?

While awake she would have never allowed herself to indulge in such thoughts but in her sleep her mind wasn't a strong.

Needless to say, Rin had very little rest that night.

* * *

><p>Disgusting.<br>Impure.  
>Soiled.<br>Dirty.

Sakura had many adjectives for herself, none of them flattering.

Ironically, she felt like a moth in more than one way.

An ugly bug that desired something that couldn't have and suffered for it. Inevitably drawn to a flame and inevitably fated to burn for it.

Like she was doing at her very moment.

Her body burned, scorched by a flame called Emiya Shirou.

She should have known better than to get too close to him. She knew what would happen when she did.

Burned. That's how she was.

She didn't deserve him, yet she allowed herself to pleasure her body with thoughts of him.  
>He possessed her dreams and in her dreams he possessed her.<br>Gently but strongly, with sweet mercilessness.

"I'm sorry Senpai," she whispered while her fingers reached for her most intimate place once again. The hunger wouldn't be quenched until sunrise. "I'm sorry."

XXX

The following morning.

A very tired Dojima Ryutaro parked his car in front of Homurahara gakuen. This was the third school he checked in a week. He managed to restrict the number of suspects for the Archer case to about a thirty but it still took him quite some time to meet to many people away from the eyes of his colleagues. He had to move discreetly and interrogate even boys that didn't fit the profile he made for Archer. He didn't want his superior to know he was getting closer to the truth until he knew who could be trusted in his department. The problem was that without involving anyone the number of things he could get done in a single day were few. Thankfully this was the last school he had to visit and only a small number of students to interrogate.

The number of suspect, after his investigation, had already dropped to six and this school only had four of them. Once he completed this preliminary scouting he could begin to watch the suspects' behavior until he narrowed down the real one.

That was, of course, if his entire reasoning wasn't wrong. That would put him back to square one and with no other trails to follow.

Groaning he left his car and entered the building. He had very little sleep in the past week. Going through all those profiles wasn't a quick task. Yawning he made his way to the faculty office. He obviously needed their permission to question any of their students.

Hopefully they wouldn't be too much of a hassle to deal with. When it came to reputation, school in Japan clamped up faster than an oyster. Having one of their students potentially involved with a crime would either mean that he would find himself stonewalled or said student prematurely out of school.

He had no intention to cause trouble for anyone, but he definitely couldn't back down from this.

XXX

"_Emiya Shirou, please report to the faculty office. I repeat. Emiya Shirou, please report to the faculty office."_

The loud speaker situated in every classroom told Shirou that something was afoot. He wasn't one to get in trouble, publicly at the very least. That either meant something came up from outside the school or that something happened at the Archery Club. Being still lesson hour the latter was unlikely, but with his only guardian working inside the school and with no other relative he couldn't imagine just what this could be about.

Not having done anything to worry about he shrugged and decided to see for himself what was the situation.

He was lead by one of the professors to a small room, where he was introduced to a man

"Emiya Shirou?" a man with dark ruffled hair and a stubble asked. "I'm police detective Dojima. If you don't mind I would like to ask you some questions about the vigilante known as Archer."

'_Well damn,'_ he thought. The situation was troublesome at the very least. He expected this could happen with him carrying the Archer persona while sticking in the school archery club. It didn't mean the police had a link to him but he had to play this carefully and not leak anything. The man in front of him looked sharp enough to pick on any slip up on his part.

"Of course detective. I don't know how much I can actually help, but please ask away."

"Very well. Your teachers informed me that you're the captain of the archery club. It's quite a feat for a freshman."

"I suppose," Shirou said noncommittally. "I just happened to be the one who showed more interest in the job than anybody else. The archery club isn't as showy or popular as other sport club. As result there aren't that many members and even less are those willing to keep up with the responsibility of captaincy without the glory usually associated with it. I'm not sure that I was the best choice as a captain but I was apparently the only applicant for the job."

"Regardless, your teacher told me you are one to take your responsibilities very seriously and that you look out to your club members. Is there something you can tell me about them?"

"I don't think I can break their confidence without proper reason Dojima-san. Are you suspecting one of my fellow club members to be involved with the Archer?"

"No, not at this point," the man answered. "I just wanted to know if you knew someone with the skill set to be this infamous vigilante, be it in your club or not. Do some of your club members have relatives that could fit this role?"

"I don't know much about their respective families, even if we happen to talk about them. I don't think anybody has a family with a background in the archery field. If they have, they never told me."

"What about them, then? Is there anyone in your club that could be the Archer?"

Shirou did a good effort to pretend to be thinking about it.

"I'm afraid that I can't answer that. Frankly I don't think that the skill set used in a combat situation can be shown in the archery dojo. Kyudo is more a practice for the mind, rather than the body, even if it requires a constant physical exercise to be performed. If anyone of my club members is capable of doing what is said Archer can do, then they never showed it around me."

"Hm," the man agreed. "It fits what captains from other schools said. What about –uh? Do you hear that?"

"Eh?"

_**DOM! DOM! DOM! DOM! DOM!**_

Heavy footsteps could be heard getting closer to the room where they were. Shirou felt a sudden chilling sensation that was way too familiar for comfort.

It couldn't be, could it? Not even her was so much of a klutz to misunderstand the situation and-

_**BAM**_**!** The door was suddenly slammed open. "SHIROOOOU!"

_'Sigh_.'

XXX

An hour later

"I'm sorry on her behalf," Shirou apologized as he accompanied detective Dojima back to the school's gates. They had just finished asking questions to the other members of the club but Taiga's off the charts reaction was still at the forefront of their minds. When she was informed that Shirou was being questioned by the police she immediately imagined the worst and rushed to his defense.

The poor detective had to face a fully enraged mother tiger wrath. It took no little amount of time for things to settle down. Taiga had to be dragged away by her colleagues.

Well, she was her guardian so she should have been informed before Shirou was sent to meet deceive Dojima, but since he wasn't being accused of anything the rest of the faculty didn't see any reason to take her away from her class. They learned their mistake the hard way.

"Don't worry about it," the man answered. He was still freaked out by Taiga outburst, but it looked like he was taking it well. He looked fairly amused. "She's your guardian. It's normal that she would worry about you. If I knew she was teaching in this school I would have asked for her permission first. It was my mistake."

"Still, it wasn't correct for her to berate on you like that, Dojima-san. I'm sorry."

"Like I said, don't worry about it. It's good to see a teacher and a guardian so fired up about their wards. She kept insisting you would never do anything bad.."

"Yes, she totally misunderstood the situation. I thought she would assault you at one point."

"To tell the truth, so did I," he said smirking. "Nevertheless, she has a high opinion of you and so does the rest of the faculty. They highly recommended you to help instead of your guardian. Well, in hindsight I can't blame them for picking you over her."

"Ah. Aaah," Shirou half laughed, half sighed, but then- "… Dojima-san, may I ask you something?"

The detective looked at Shirou for a moment. The teenager tone had drastically changed. "Sure thing."

"Why are you looking for Archer? Is what he's doing wrong?"

Again, the detective looked at the boy in front of him and pondered his words carefully.

"It looks like you've got this wrong, Emiya-kun."

"Eh?"

"As a policeman, my job is to enforce the law. Nothing more, nothing less. Archer's actions are against the law. So long as that doesn't change my job is to find and stop him."

"So, regardless of the fact that he helps people, the law will still try to capture him? But isn't the law's purpose to help people? Justice-"

Dojima shook his head. He could understand the boy's point but reality wasn't as beautiful.

"Sorry kid. I'm afraid that justice and law don't go hand in hand. In my line of work I've seen the law go against justice plenty of time. Don't you ever read the news? Scammers and delinquents of all kind are let free because the law is on their side? The law is far from perfect."

"Then why do you keep this kind of job? Doesn't it bother you?"

"Constantly," Dojima admitted. "But I believe I can make things right if I stick by the rule instead of playing out of them. I would rather improve the law instead of casting it aside. Then again it's all a matter of points of view. In the end we can only live with our vision of right and wrong and act accordingly. If you ask me, I don't think what Archer's doing is wrong."

"But you will still hunt him, right?"

"Correct. Does that satisfy your curiosity, Emiya-kun?"

"Yes. Yes it does. Thank you, Dojima-san. Sorry for keeping you."

"It's no trouble at all. It's nice to see a boy your age interested in this kind of things for a change. Goodbye, Emiya-kun."

"Goodbye, Dojima-san."

Shirou watched the detective enter his car and drive off in the distance. Perhaps it was a bad move on his part to show that much interest but he needed to ask those questions. He was aware that his dream was an egotistical one, his Justice was of course different from someone else's. Even people with the best of intentions could eventually clash when their vision conflicted with each other. It was an inescapable paradox. By pursuing his justice he would violate someone else's.

Still, the only thing he could do was believe in his Justice and follow it, just like Dojima-san said. One day, if his quest would bring him to fight against someone of different beliefs he would have to…

He shook his head. That was just a possible future, one he would face once he was there. There was no use in filling his head with hypothetical thoughts. He turned and went back to the archery dojo. The club activities were about to begin.

XXX

Dojima watched the silhouette of the red haired boy in the rear mirror getting smaller as he sped away. The boy had left him with a sense of curiosity. Emiya Shirou was one of the prime candidates in his list of suspects. From what he gathered talking to his teacher he was altruistic enough to fit the role, but according to what they said he was too busy with his school work, the archery club and a part time job in town. Plus, the instances of fighting he was known to be involved with always had him on the receiving end. He fit the profile only in terms of apparent mindset, but lacked the effective skills to pull it off.

Unless…

It was worth looking into. He would look into it anyway. The questioning were only preliminary to his investigation. In the end the only way to find the vigilante was to catch him red handed. Nothing short of that would be proof enough.

Emiya Shirou was third on his list. Other two boys, a little older than he was, were also valid potential culprits. If Archer wasn't one of those three then it either meant the vigilante was smart enough to set up his public identity on the opposite end of the spectrum or that his whole theory was invalid.

Dojima honestly hoped it was neither of those.

XXX

Mitsuzuri Ayako was more a persons of actions than words. Still, the freshman girl was extremely sharp. She didn't miss Shirou troubled expression after he came back from accompanying the detective. Well, to tell the truth she would have probably missed it on anybody else, but she spent a considerable amount of time looking at her captain.

One would say that she had a crush on him, and while that was true, the reasons for her staring were originated by a sense of rivalry. In fact her skills with a bow were second only to his despite what the arrogant Matou Shinji claimed. Now, she wasn't a sore loser, but the way he made it look easy really grated on her nerves. She didn't dispute his talent, nor the amount of effort he put into his training, but the fact that he never once missed a target unless he declared it really depressed her. She constantly tried her best, but no amount of effort put her in his league.

He could say what he wanted, but he was definitely the best choice as a captain. Both for his mature mindset and for his skills.

That's why she noticed he was upset. He usually was capable of dealing with everything with a firm mind and a smile on his face, so whatever was troubling him had to have struck deep. It didn't take a genius to connect the situation with their recent guest, but why would he be troubled by something like that?

"Oi, Emiya," she called out. The red haired teen in question lowered his bow and turned to her.

"What is it Mitsuzuri?"

"That would be my question. If the captain is sulking how is the rest of the club going to feel? If you have something on your mind you should just let it out or it will interfere with your aim."

As response Shirou pulled his bow up, cocked an arrow and released the string.

_**THUNK!**_

The projectile embedded itself in the target's center with absolute precision.

"Eurgh," was all that Ayako could say in response. "Damn it, Emiya. Will you miss the target even once in your life?"

"Sorry, Mitsuzuri," Shirou apologized with a smile. "For worrying you, I mean."

"Never mind. If anyone knows how to deal with his problems that's be you, Emiya. I just wasted my time."

"Not at all. I'm grateful that you're worried about me, but there's really nothing to be worried about. My problems are of the philosophical kind. No matter how much I think about it the answer cannot be found anywhere but inside myself."

"… Wow. Are you channeling Ryuudo-kun?"

"Eh, I guess he's rubbing off on me somewhat. Still, I'm glad you care enough to ask."

She turned around with a huff as to dismiss his claims, but it was more to hide her evident blush.

"Idiot. I was just worried about the club. Don't get strange ideas in that head of yours."

"Whatever the reason, thank you for your concern, Mitsuzuri."

With that being said they returned to their practice without other words. Ayako stole a glance at her side but the thoughtful expression was gone. Emiya was focused solely on his arrow and the target.

No, it could be said that he was one with both. It never ceased to amaze her how easily he could do that. Undoubtedly, Emiya Shirou had already reached mastery.

She wondered how someone her age could be so focused and disciplined. Not a stray thought crossed his mind when he pulled the string. Not a single shade of doubt.

He was perfectly focused. In his mind he was already hitting his target. No, he was even piercing through it.

She wondered, what did he see when he released the string? What was he really aiming at behind that unreadable expression of his?

She wasn't about to find an answer just by staring at him. Perhaps if she managed to equal him, she would also be able to understand him?

It was a whimsical thought, but it was also the only way she could think about. Yes, by all mean and purpose, Emiya Shirou was an existence that couldn't be grasped only through words.

XXX

That night

Another fruitless evening of searches. It was obvious from the get go that this kind of avenue wouldn't have brought anything up short of an impossible stroke of luck.

Still it was with a bitter taste in his mouth that Shirou got back home that night. Sometimes doing your best just isn't enough.

It was a harsh reality he had to confront sooner or later. Kiritsugu had warned him about that. Chasing after the dream of saving everyone was a path paved with disappointment.

That undeniable truth was the one that pushed Shirou's father to settle for sacrificing ten to save hundreds.

It was also the one that made him die full of regrets and sorrow.

Shirou wasn't sure that the path he had decided to walk upon was any better than the one his father choose for himself, but it was the only option open for him, the one who bore the sin of surviving. He could not become as his father was. He wasn't able to deny the pain of those in front of him.

No, the dream was the same but the path wasn't.

No matter how much he thought what his father would have said in response to Dojima's words, it wouldn't have been an adequate answer for him.

Because –

'_You are distorted, Shirou'_

Yes, he was aware of that. It was the source of his resolve but also his greatest dilemma. He still couldn't figure it out. His father last words –

'_You can't save anyone, if you don't save yourself first.'_

What did it mean? How could he save himself? What did he have to be saved from? How would it help him to save others? There were only questions and no trace of an answer in sight.

With a sigh he let those thoughts go and headed toward the bathroom. Soaking into hot water for a while would relax him enough to sleep.

XXX

_Later that night_

"Ugh," Shirou moaned, pulling himself up to a sitting positing. It was still the middle of the night and he was dreaming of swords so there was no reason for him to wake up at that hour.

He scanned the room, searching for the source of the disturbance. His eyes fell on his left where a small paper crane stood, as if waiting for him.

"Oh ,it's just you," he mumbled half-asleep and then turned around to resume is dreaming.

Only to sit up straight half a second later, eyes wide and set on the paper figure. "Shit!"

He jumped up and got dressed in his Archer clothes. There was no time for him to take a detour and get changed somewhere else. Even if he risked to be tracked back to his house there was no helping it.

The paper crane he had left after Nezumi was connected to another one that he always had with himself. It would take different colors depending on the situation with its target. It would be blue if the set condition was met, in this case if Nezumi found any usable information about the missing girl.

It would turn red, instead, if the target's life was in serious danger.

Needless to say, Shirou's hurry was caused by this second case. It took him less than a minute to get dressed and equipped. He picked up the crane and headed for the back of his house, in the direction the paper figure was pointing at.

"This is going to take a lot out of me," he murmured. "Trace on."

_Body Analysis: Complete.  
>Program: Reinforcement - Stage Two<br>Bones Reinforcement: Complete  
>Muscle and Nerves Reinforcement: Complete<br>Lungs and Heart Reinforcement: Complete_

He jumped above the wall and speed up toward his destination at the speed of a running car. Thankfully it was late at night and he hopped from rooftop to rooftop in silence and unnoticed.

The first stage of his Reinforcement allowed him to move within human limits without consuming his stamina or overworking his body. At that level, thanks to the micromanagement of Prana he had developed, he could keep going nearly without limits as it took just a drop of his Od to get the process started, and then he could continue by absorbing Mana from the atmosphere. He could use it in public since only another Magus could tell that he was actually using Thaumaturgy and he wasn't just in great shape. His resources would actually regenerate faster that he consumed them at that stage.

Stage two, however, was an entirely different matter. It allowed him to move faster than humanly possible, even keeping up with a speeding car, but it severely drained his resources. Normally he used it in short, controlled bursts when hopping across rooftops, or if he needed sudden acceleration in combat. As it didn't apply to his eyes he developed tunnel vision while using. It wasn't really good for extended combat as I did nothing to improve his reflexes. It was more useful as a mean of transportation, but he always had to remember that if he used it too extensively he wouldn't be in fighting condition when he reached his destination.

Following stages were trickier as they require a control of Prana still beyond his ability. The difference in the amount of energy required to reinforce his body and the one for his brain was too great. It was one thing reinforcing one or the other, but doing them both was akin to directing every drop of water coming out from a full blasting hose with microscopic precision. If is control wavered for the smallest fraction of a second his head would literally explode.

He needed more training before he could use them without destroying himself in the process.

Of course in that moment his mind was entirely focused on getting to his intended target as fast as possible and without being seen.

If Nezumi was in danger it could be related to Kazama's disappearance. In the worst case there were two lives at stake in that moment. He could not afford to lose either one and with that thought in mind he pushed his legs a little faster.

He had to make it in time.

* * *

><p><span>Location: Unknown<span>

The man took put the cell phone and dialed the usual number. He waited for the sound of the call being picked up before speaking.

"It's done," he said. "All that's left now is to see if this new fish will actually bite the bait."

"_You seem rather confident,"_ the genderless person answered on the other end on the line.

"I don't really care. I'm just going to have fun with this."

"_Try not to get too distracted. You cannot afford it."_

"Meh. You worry too much. What's life without some amusement?"

"_Especially when it's at other people expenses." _

"Uh uh. See? You do understand."

"_Perhaps. For now let's see what this guy can actually do."_

"You don't sound concerned."

"_Why would I be? Either way this goes it's my victory. They all are pawns on my board."_

"Eh. I guess we'll see how it goes, don't we?"

_CLICK!_ He abruptly ended the conversation. The man remained alone with his thoughts in the dark room.

"Are you going to make my life less dull…. Archer?"

* * *

><p>Author Notes:<p>

Small cliffhanger and a little insight to most character's inner thoughts. Not much else to say.

Sorry about the delay. This chapter has been ready for almost three weeks but my beta was and is busy. Seeing that six weeks passed from my last update I decided to put it up as it was. I hope you enjoyed it.

Next chapter is almost complete but it still has to be edited so don't hold your breath. Hopefully it will be uploaded within the week.

Well that's it for now.

Thank you for all the reviews.

Bye.


	8. Pulling the strings

**CHAPTER 7 – PULLING THE STRINGS**

(Beta: RavingScholar)

* * *

><p>"Shit," the man known as Nezumi swore as he clenched his wounded leg. "Shit," he repeated, as if to reaffirm how bad the situation really was.<p>

This wasn't what he had expected. Sure, he had been shot before, but it had mostly been for intimidation. In most people's opinion, he neither was worthy nor dangerous enough to warrant the hassle of having the police attention.

Nezumi was just fine with that. Being insignificant meant that no one would go out of their way to hurt him. It was perhaps the only advantage of his lifestyle, but it all came crashing down the night he met the thrice-accursed Archer.

It was in the early days of the vigilante's career, when his alias had yet to become known in the underworld. He had caught Nezumi red-handed while he was trying to fence some stolen goods. It wasn't something that would get him into any real trouble with the law, but he figured that answering the teen's questions was better than the police's.

How wrong he had been. Little by little, the information became more difficult to get and the amount of dirt Archer had on him grew over time. Nezumi tried to shake him off by changing hideouts or even disappearing altogether for a while. It was a completely useless effort.

Now, in hindsight, it would have been better if he just agreed to be turned over to the police and sent to jail. There was very little chance that somebody would shoot him in there.

But the problem with hindsight is that it usually comes too late for it to be any good, so the only thing he could do was drag his limping self as far and fast as he could, hoping that his pursuers wouldn't see the trail of blood he was leaving behind.

"Where do you think you're going, rat?" A voice behind him asked accompanied by the sound of a gun being cocked.

'_Shit. I'm so dead,' _Nezumi thought, but despite that he turned around to face his would be killer. No way he'd get shot from behind twice in the same night.

The person that was pointing a gun at him was a tall man dressed in a white coat and trousers, with a black shirt underneath and a white necktie. His hair was carefully combed backwards and the eyes behind the designer's glasses where sharp and cold.

Even to someone who kept himself on the border of the underworld, like Nezumi, it was painfully obvious that this man was a pro. That tailored suit wasn't the kind of stuff a common thug would wear, especially not when trying to kill someone.

"Look, man," he began, "I don't know what this is all about, but you got the wrong guy."

"Save your breath," the hit man answered coldly. "I never get my targets wrong. I don't know what you did to have someone sending me after you, but it must have been something big. My services don't come cheap. Regardless, that doesn't concern me. Farewell, Nezumi-san."

"Wait, don't…!"

_**BLAM!**_

* * *

><p>Shirou followed the paper crane as fast as he could, hopping from rooftop to rooftop, ignoring the burning sensation in his lungs and the strain of his heart.<p>

Years of diligent training were paying off, but while his Prana reserves was still almost untouched, the effort was severely draining his body's stamina. No matter how much he could reinforce his body, moving faster than humanly possible was extremely taxing. He could consume more Prana and preserve his energy, but considering just how small his magical pool was it wasn't a good idea. It took him less time to recover from a physical effort than a magical one, in an area with little to no natural Mana.

Fuyuki was naturally rich on that side but it wasn't like he could sap the surrounding energy to reinforce himself. The body's rejection of foreign energies meant that his reinforcement would last shorter and would be less stable if he used the ambient Mana instead of his own Od.

It was this sort of situation that stressed the importance of being efficient and versatile. He was glad that he decided to persevere in his archery and fighting training. If he had to rely only on his magical reserves he would be nearly useless, even if he had the talent to cast spells properly.

Fortunately there was more to a fight than Magic. Useful as it was, magic hardly trumped over everything else. Kuzuki-sensei was the prime example of this. With his smooth style, void of needless movements, he could keep up with Shirou's reinforced body with ease.

He didn't dare to think what a magically reinforced Kuzuki could be capable of. He would be unstoppable by all but the strongest Magi and, even it that case, he would make a terrible foe.

He was so very glad that his teacher had decided to quit his life as a killer. He wasn't sure he could have taken him on for real if they had met as enemies unless he had the advantage of surprise.

As he pondered all this, his destination drew closer. The paper crane was humming lightly as they reached the dock. He idly remembered his father telling him that it had been the site of the first battle of the last Holy Grail War.

Considering how desolated it was, the likelihood of the situation being bad for Nezumi were rather high.

The place was rather large, and searching between rows of containers would take a while, even with the paper crane guiding him. Turning off his body's reinforcement he switched on his ears'. The difference in Prana requirement between the two parts of his body caused him to slightly misjudge the amount of energy and was rewarded by a loud whistling sound right inside his head.

He quickly reduced the energy, freeing his hearing of the offending noise and focusing on the actual sounds of the place.

_Ragged breathing_, _the sound of something being dragged_, _uncertain steps_ in one point and someone _running in that direction._

"Where do you think you're going, rat?" An unknown voice asked, punctuated by a metallic noise that sounded too much like a gun for comfort.

"Look, man, I don't know what this is all about, but you got the wrong guy."

Archer was already on the move. The fear in his voice and the scent of blood was all the information he needed to understand the situation. He darted in their direction with an arrow already out of the quiver and onto the bowstring.

He reached the edge of a container overlooking the scene just in time to see an unknown man about to squeeze the trigger of a gun pointed at Nezumi's head.

With practiced confidence, the arrow was released with utmost precision and timing.

_**BLAM!**_

The gun flew away from its owner's grasp, hit by the round shaped arrowhead shot by the impeccable Archer. The bullet flew in Nezumi's direction, slightly offset by its intended path.

A red trail of blood formed and dripped down the trembling man's cheek, although the prominent sound of liquid dripping came from his urine stained trousers instead of his face.

Nezumi had little time to contemplate both his luck and shame as he promptly passed out.

While Nezumi slumped on the ground another arrow flew from Archer's bow toward the assassin.

To his credit, the hit man proved his ability by jumping backward and landing in a defensive crouch. They were clearly non-lethal weapons, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt like hell.

"So this is the infamous Archer I've been hearing about. You really do look young," he chuckled "Well, isn't this just grand. Who'd have thought that this insignificant rat would have led me to a much more interesting prey?"

"…," Archer didn't say anything. Instead he chose to release another couple of arrow with lightening speed. The target rolled out of their path and out of sight.

"Ah, as much as I would like to stay and play with you, I really have to go. It's my policy not to work for free or outside the terms of my contract. I'll see you another time. Ja ne."

He spun and run away, toward the less illuminated area of the docks. There was a grin of satisfaction on his face. Apparently, despite the job going badly, he was quite pleased by the sudden turn of events.

With silent but fast steps he ran past a corner-

_**THUD!**_

-and promptly fell backwards when Archer's fist met his face.

"… You talk too much," the vigilante said flatly.

"H-how…," he stuttered holding his now bleeding nose.

"You're also too slow," Archer punctuated as he sped over the assassin's prone body and knocked him unconscious with a slightly reinforced punch.

* * *

><p>When Nezumi opened his eyes again he was sitting against a container. His leg was bandaged and didn't hurt as much as before.<p>

"How are you feeling, Nezumi-san?"

"Like I've been shot in a leg, you fucking moron," the man snarled. Archer's concern was grating on his nerves. If the vigilante was so concerned about his well-being, he shouldn't have blackmailed him into doing his bidding.

"I didn't expect this situation to turn this ugly. I'm sorry about your wound," he said apologetically.

"Yeah? Well that makes me feel so much better, dickhead. I told you I didn't want to do this, but did you give a fuck about that? No, so keep your lame excuses to yourself. I'm outta here."

"… You shouldn't walk with a leg like that."

"Look, fucktard," the man said in a bout of rage extremely out of character for him. "I don't give a damn about it right now. It hurts like hell, but it beats being dead by a long shot. I don't know how many other fuckers are after me because of you, so I'm getting the hell out of dodge while I still can. Don't bother looking for me."

"But…"

"Just leave me the fuck alone. Here, take this," he said, passing him a manila envelope from a pocket of his coat. "It's all I found about that girl of yours. If there's really something worthy of sending a killer after me over her, it's in there."

"… Thank you, Nezumi-san."

"Yeah, yeah. Go jump off a cliff or something. I'd appreciate that much better than your gratitude, you bastard."

Shirou watched the man stumbling away, feeling mortified. When he first coerced him to look into Kazama's disappearance, he hadn't expected something of this magnitude. Even if there was an organized criminal group behind her abduction, for them to resort to murder was too much to consider in advance.

That aside, it was a great leap forward in the investigation, but it also meant that behind this case there was a much greater threat than initially anticipated.

It could be too big for him to handle by himself, but he couldn't just trust the police. Having lived himself in a form of social underworld, he knew exactly how little the law enforcement actually knew of what was going around in the apparently quiet streets of this city.

No. If he could deal with the situation by himself he would, and only if it proved too much to handle would he turn to the police.

There was also another option. However, involving Tohsaka as a Magus would mean revealing too many things and he wasn't ready to deal with that can of worms.

He walked to the unconscious hit man and lifted him over his shoulder. He wouldn't wake up for a while thanks to a minor sleeping spell. He would get all the information he could out of him and then he would drop him with in front of the police. Even if this guy was smart enough to use a gun with no relation to other crimes, being found armed on the law enforcement's doorstep was enough to warrant some question. Hopefully, they would be competent enough to charge him with something and keep him behind bars for a while.

With a sigh he reinforced his body again, before leaping for the rooftops and toward his house.

* * *

><p>At dawn, the assassin woke up in a cell in the local police station with a broken nose and no recollection of how he got there. No amount of pleading of ignorance got him out of there and, much to his dismay, he hadn't been smart enough to use a new weapon for his latest job.<p>

Despite the general incompetence usually shown by the local officers, he wasn't about to get out anytime soon, and according to what they were finding out about him as they investigated, he probably wouldn't for the next forty to fifty years.

* * *

><p>A weary Shirou made his way to school to school the following morning. It wasn't a common sight for the usually energetic teenager and it didn't go unnoticed by anyone.<p>

Despite what he thought of himself, he was actually well known among his peers. Many considered him very odd sometimes, but the female half of the student body secretly liked him a lot. He was in the top four most attractive boys of the entire school, surpassed only by a couple of senior students and, surprisingly, Issei. While he wasn't openly attractive like others, his pleasant character and general will to help others made him rather popular with the girls. His popularity was further enhanced by certain pictures of him half naked in the archery club changing room, leaked by a guardian over-concerned with his lack of girlfriends.

He didn't know about those, or he would have self-combusted from embarrassment every time a girl looked halfway in his general direction, but the fact remained that people looked at him with admiration quite often.

He was also considered generally unapproachable in the romantic sense of the world for various reasons. The first was that getting close to him also meant to having to deal with a certain tiger spirited, cursed-shinai wielding teacher. Not many were willing to deal with _that_ particular brand of nutcase outside of school. There was just a set amount of weekly craziness one could take, and Fujimura Taiga already filled everyone's quota with her classes.

The second reason was Shirou himself. With his crazy schedule and attitude there was little chance that he could be involved in a meaningful relationship with someone his age. His mental maturity was also leaps and bounds beyond than his peers, further widening the gap between him and them.

As a result, he was part of the local female fauna's fantasies, but the real life target of none. It was generally agreed that chasing after him was a clear sign of mild insanity at the very least.

That being said, it hardly passed unnoticed that the usually tireless teen looked like a sleepless zombie. While most chalked it up to his lifestyle finally catching up with him, a few had actual concern for his well being.

"Yo, Emiya," Matou Shinji greeted. "You look like a zombie this morning."

"Morning, Shinji," Shirou greeted back with the same monotone tone of voice that could be expected by the aforementioned undead.

"You should sleep more instead of tinkering until morning in that dusty shed of yours. You're going to make the entire club look bad at this rate."

"I'm glad you are so concerned about my health, Shinji," Shirou said sarcastically.

"Of course," Shinji replied, either not getting but probably ignoring deliberately the remark. "That's what friends are for, after all. Well, I'll see you in class. Later, Emiya."

Matou Shinji was a constant in Shirou's life. They became friends in middle school thanks to Sakura introducing them to each other. It couldn't be said that they immediately hit it off. As a matter of fact, no one could hit it off with Shinji. The self-absorbed Matou had the kind of personality that rubbed most people in the wrong way with two words.

Except girls, that is. They seemed to like being with Shinji, although it never lasted more than a few weeks. Either they wised up in regard to him and abandoned any hope of finding a decent human being underneath his rough exterior, or Shinji got tired of them and simply discarded them.

…

Not that those options were mutually exclusive.

Either way, if Shinji went out of his way just to let you know that you looked like shit without making (too much) fun of you, it really meant you were really down the drain. Which wasn't a mistaken assumption by any stretch of the imagination.

After rescuing his unwilling informant and hypnotizing every piece of information he could out of the assassin, Shirou had spent the rest of the night going through Nezumi's material in an attempt to figure out what happened to Kazama. Normally, even a sleepless night wouldn't have affected him that badly, but spending it with his brain reinforced as much as he could muster in a (relatively) safe manner took its toll on him.

Taiga and Sakura had both insisted that he should have stayed home for the day and, although Shirou agreed that he needed to rest, he also knew that he wouldn't sleep so long as his mind was taken by the mystery. Going to school was the best he could do to actually wind down a little, even if he didn't pay any attention in class.

Sadly, he wasn't the only one to think like that. The sleepless Tohsaka, for once uncaring of other people's opinion, went to school with bags under her eyes. Normally it wouldn't be too much of a problem since even seemingly faultless persons like Tohsaka Rin could have a bad night from time to time, but there were other factors to consider.

Shirou and Rin's late night activities didn't pass unnoticed. Some other students had spotted them together in town the previous evenings, and their tired appearances began to fuel the kind of rumors expected in a school filled with hormonal teenagers.

* * *

><p><span>In a dark classroom<span>

A group of students sat around a block of desks put together in a meeting room fashion. Their faces weren't visible in the dim light that filtered from behind the heavy curtains, but they didn't need to see each other. The purpose of their gathering didn't lay in themselves, after all.

"Have you heard about Tohsaka-hime?" Student _Number 1_ asked.

"Did something happen?" Student _Number 2_ inquired.

"I've heard her and Emiya are dating," the first answered.

"Are you kidding me? She's going out with the Fake Janitor of all people?"

"This is troubling," _Number 3_ commented.

"Not only that," _Number 1_ added grimly. "I heard they went all the way already."

"No way," _Number 4_ said disbelieving. "Tohsaka-hime wouldn't do that. She's just too pure."

"Is that why they both look like they didn't sleep at all last night?" _Number 5_ asked rhetorically with a grief stricken voice.

"I'm going to kill the bastard," _Number 6_ growled. "Tohsaka-hime is mine. Ours."

"What does she see in him anyway? That loser isn't good enough to clean her shoes. I would be much better for her," _Number 4_ spoke again.

"Perhaps he's blackmailing her with something."

"Impossible. Tohsaka-hime couldn't have done anything that could be used against her."

"Then maybe it's something he did to her."

"You don't mean...?"

"That bastard. I'm going to have his head on a pike."

Finally, the boy that sat at the head of the table spoke for the first time. His mouth was hidden behind his hands and his eyes couldn't be seen due to the reflection of the light on his glasses. His sitting position and his overall demeanor said everything about his role as _The Leader_.

"We cannot act rashly," he stated in a low voice. "We must ascertain the truth and act accordingly."

"That's right," the only boy standing, clearly _The Advisor_, said from beside the leader. "We need to find out more. Our next mission is to find out the truth behind these rumors."

"And if they are indeed true?"

"Then Emiya Shirou is a dead man," _The Leader_ answered the collective question. "Comrades, we shall not let any offense go unpunished. The _Tohsaka Worship Project_ must continue as planned. "

"OOOOOH!" They all cheered in agreement. They stood and left the classroom, leaving behind only _The Leader_ and _The Advisor_. When the door closed again the latter spoke once more.

"Leader, are you sure about this?"

Behind his hands _The Leader_ smiled wickedly.

* * *

><p>Shirou caught wind that something was wrong at lunch break, that is, as soon as his brain had recovered enough to pay attention to anything. He had the distinct impression that other students were watching him when he wasn't looking. It was unnerving, mainly because he didn't know why they were doing it. He double-checked his uniform, but he hadn't worn anything incorrectly, and there was nothing wrong with his appearance beside his complexion.<p>

Maybe he was just imagining things? Not likely, unless it was purely coincidental that the same student happened to follow him for three floors. He tried to move in a random pattern just to see if he was actually being followed or if they just happened to walk in the same direction.

His suspicions found confirmation when he climbed to the third floor only to descend to the second again from another set of stairs. There was no way someone would follow that route to go somewhere. He was obviously being trailed.

But why?

* * *

><p>Rin wasn't in the best of moods. Sleepless nights and constant worry had since long eroded her patience. At that point even the usually deeply ingrained process of keeping up appearances was becoming a chore.<p>

She definitely wasn't willing to keep up with her peers' shenanigans, so she completely ignored the not so subtle glances sent her way.

So what if she wasn't sleeping well? What did it matter to them how she looked? They didn't really even know her. They were just simpletons satisfied with the persona she made up for their sake. How did they dare to judge her for not being up to par every once in a while?

Of course, while she ranted inwardly she still smiled pleasantly on the outside. She was a disciplined Magus after all. It would take something extremely annoying to rile her up enough to explode.

Yeah, something like Matou Shinji for instance.

* * *

><p>Matou Shinji was on the warpath. He couldn't believe he had actually looked out for that mongrel that morning. Out of sheer kindness, he had taken the trouble to inform Emiya of how much he sucked and that was the way he paid him back?<p>

He strode the halls searching for the treacherous redhead who dared to lay his hands on a girl that belonged to him. It was already bad enough that he monopolized his sister every single day, but he could overlook that. They were supposed to be friends so there was nothing bad in sharing a few used toys.

Tohsaka was another matter altogether. She was a Magus and she belonged with a Magus. Not that Shinji was one, but he was the next closest thing. Shirou had no right to touch her after he'd gotten tired of her, much less when he still had to make his move in the first place.

Some things couldn't be overlooked or forgiven. It was about time to put the arrogant upstart in his place.

"Emiyaaaaaaa!" He roared as he saw his target coming down from the third floor.

"Uh? Shinji, what…-gh." Shirou words were caught in his throat as Shinji grabbed the collar of his shirt.

"How dare you, Emiya? How dare you touch her?"

"Wha- Shinji what the hell are talking about?"

"Don't play dumber than you already are," he growled, completely ignoring the rest of the crowd now looking at them without exception. "I know what you did."

"I suppose that's good for you," Shirou agreed, "but I really I have no idea of what this is all about."

"Ah! Of course! Like you did more than one thing even remotely worth mentioning in your life. I'm talking about Tohsaka. Toh-sa-ka!"

"…Uh?" Shirou replied intelligently. "What about Tohsaka-san?"

If Shinji had been calmer and a little smarter, then he would have realized the situation in that moment. The lack of embarrassment on Shirou's part at the mention of his supposed lover the day after they… tied the knot said enough about the truthfulness about the ongoing rumors. As it was, Shinji continued to blurt his nonsense for everyone to hear.

"I'm saying that I know you banged her! Everyone does!"

"…," wait. Did he mean _bang her_ as in…? "Eh… EEEEEEHHHHHH?"

"Don't _eeeh_ me, you bastard. You should just go ahead and d –ghhhk."

Shinji's eyes crossed and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. As the grip around his shirt lost power, Shirou looked worriedly at his friend turned accuser. It was like all strength had suddenly abandoned him and he just stood there slaw-jacked. In that moment Shirou looked down and noticed something. There was a foot, definitely female, sticking out from between Shinji's legs, crushing his groin in an obviously painful manner. Shirou winced in sympathy. Not that Shinji deserved any for what he had insinuated, but there is a basic camaraderie among men when it comes to genital injuries.

Already knowing what he would find, Shirou looked behind Shinji's frozen from. And winced again.

With an expression of absolute calmness, Tohsaka Rin stood with a foot firmly planted in Shinji's groin. There wasn't any indication of fury on her visage and that made it all the scarier. The audience was frozen in disbelief at her unusual display of violence.

"Uh… Tohsaka-san?"

"What is it, Emiya-kun?" She asked normally, like there was nothing strange with the situation, or as if she didn't feel any strain in the position she was keeping.

"I think that Shinji got the message."

"Hm. I suppose."

She returned her foot beside its companion with a grace that should have only belonged with an experienced groin-kicker.

Without the support of Tohsaka's leg, Shinji's knees buckled and he slumped on the floor with his face still frozen in the best imitation of a fish Shirou ever saw.

"What's going on here?" Issei asked, finally joining the scene and catching sight of Shinji's limp body. "Matou-kun! What happened to you? Are you all right? Emiya-kun, What happened?

"Ahhh…," Shirou trailed off, not knowing exactly how to word the situation.

"I think," Tohsaka said with unnatural calmness, "that someone must have caught sight of Emiya and I in the past few nights and reached the wrong conclusion about our relationship."

"How does it relate to the situation at hand?"

"It looks like," Shirou finally found the word, "that someone must have exaggerated a little with the gossip and led people to believe that me and Tohsaka-san are having… you know… an affair?"

"And Matou-kun began foaming from the mouth, how?"

"He might have voiced aloud his thoughts about the apparent situation, and my foot might accidentally have slipped between his legs when I approached him to explain how things actually are," Tohsaka declared, frowning with false guilt. "I'm really, really sorry for hurting him."

The crowd around them blinked and bought Tohsaka's excuse without a second thought.

'_Incredible,'_ Shirou said to himself noticing this. _'It's incredible how people hold onto a blatantly fake story to preserve their twisted perception of reality. Tohsaka-san, you really are a fearsome one to use such a thing to your advantage.'_

Issei sighed. "Well, be more careful in the future, Tohsaka-san. I will accompany Matou-kun to the infirmary, now. Oh, and for the sake of clearing this misunderstanding, I happened to be there with them these past few evenings. Nothing inappropriate took place, as we were busy looking for the missing third-year. Our meeting was not even remotely a social event."

That seemed to get the crowd whispering again. If an upstanding guy like Ryuudo Issei said that nothing was going on, then nothing was going on. With the matter settled, the rest of the student body returned to their daily activities like nothing had happened. Issei too left in the direction of the infirmary to find help for the abused boy.

"Uuuhhh," Shirou moaned, clearly disoriented by the surreal development. "Right. It's no use to be surprised by an unexpected turn of events for too long."

Tohsaka beside him did not speak for a moment. "Sorry about that, Emiya-kun. It looks like I dragged you in a ridiculous situation, and for nothing on top of that."

There was something about her posture that spoke of tiredness and defeat. Shirou could understand her situation and wondered how he could help her.

"Well… that might not be actually true," he said, pondering if what he was about to do was wise. "I asked… a friend of mine to look into this case and he stirred a hornet's nest. He left me some notes on what he found out before getting out of town."

He fished out an envelope from his back pocket. "Here's a copy. I spent last night trying to figure out something but didn't manage to get anything. Maybe you'll be luckier. I'll also try to give this to the police discretely without our names getting involved."

"Emiya-kun, this is…" she trailed off eyeing the envelope and then him in dumbfounded surprise. "I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say," he replied. "Just promise you'll get some decent sleep before going over this material. It doesn't look like you've been sleeping well recently."

"You are one to talk," she scoffed, looking at the bags under his eyes.

"I know. I'll skip archery practice today and get a few hours of sleep. I need to be at the top of my game for this."

"Sorry for troubling you so much."

"It's not a problem. Besides, now that we know there's more to this than initially thought, we absolutely must do something."

"You're right," she agreed. "Thank you Emiya-kun."

"Anytime," he acknowledged. "I've got to go now. Lunch break is almost over and I still have to eat."

"_**GROOOOWL!"**_ Tohsaka's stomach announced loudly.

"And so do you from the look of things," he added, sweatdropping at the annoyance he saw on her face. It was undoubtedly caused by the second betrayal perpetrated by her stomach in a couple of days. "I have an extra bento, you know? Want to join me?"

"At this rate I'm going to owe you even more than I already do," the miserly Tohsaka complained.

"I'm sure there'll be plenty of chances to return the favor if you really want to."

"I suppose that's true. Well then, Emiya-kun, it looks like I'm in your care again. Lead the way. I'm famished." With that, she walked past him without a glance back.

"Oi, Tohsaka. Wait up," he ran after her, glad to have cheered her up a little.

He wasn't sure it was wise connecting Archer and Shirou in Tohsaka's perspective, but reasoned that there was no way she could connect his two identities just by that. He was also aware that she didn't have the same familiarity he had with the local underworld, and as such it was unlikely she would find anything in the material he gave her. It was merely a way to direct her effort and show her a little progress, nothing but a small placebo for her worries.

The problem was holding up the other end of his promise. Delivering Nezumi's information to the police, and making sure that they would take it as seriously as he did was a hard task. They wouldn't take Emiya Shirou seriously, and even if they did he couldn't say where the information came from. He would only put himself in an unwanted situation.

Archer, on the other hand, couldn't just waltz into the police station and demand to be heard. His anonymous tips served only to put an official ending to a situation he had already dealt with. This was an entirely different matter altogether and he needed the police's information network to solve it.

The problem was how to proceed. How and who could he contact to have this issue taken care of? Did he know someone in the law enforcement that was both driven and competent enough?

A name popped up in his mind, and it was the worst idea ever in the history of bad ideas.

It was also the only one he had.


	9. Night of revelations

**Chapter 8 – Night of revelations  
>(published: 06-14-12 – Beta: RavingScholar)<strong>

* * *

><p>'<em>Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. The mother of all bad ideas.'<em>

That was the mantra Shirou kept chanting in his head as he hopped from rooftop to rooftop, chasing after the car of the man from which he should keep as far away as possible.

But this wasn't about his well-being or his gain, and while he had no intention of getting put behind bars, he couldn't afford to be picky either.

Involving himself directly with the police was a risky move, but if he succeeded he would gain another useful tool for his mission. He didn't trust the law enforcement as a whole; he couldn't, since he knew just how easily a Magus could sway any investigation either through the pulls of the Organization or by direct application of Thaumaturgy.

Killing, brainwashing, bribing. Everything was fair game when it came to covering up a crime committed either through or in relation to magic. It was sick and twisted, but then again it was also the only feasible way. Common humans weren't trained to deal with the supernatural aspects of the world, and revealing the existence of magic would simply spur a quest for power that would only end in more elaborate wars with higher body counts.

What he didn't like was the abuse made of this principle. Magi often regarded other living beings as little more than insects and dealt with them accordingly. It wasn't unusual for a Magus to experiment his craft on living people and the Association wouldn't bother acting so long as the secrecy of magic wasn't jeopardized.

And now he, a magic user, was about to involve a police officer with his own crusade. Aside from the fact that he was risking being arrested, he was also bringing a theoretically honest man closer to the dangerous world of Magi. Even if he had no intention to reveal a single thing about it to the man, his mere presence acted as a _distortion_ to his otherwise mundane life.

It was the reason why Magi were usually so reclusive from the rest of society. Their constant dealing with the World's inner working created ripples that would eventually affect those who were too close. It could be a small change in fortune or a major catastrophe, as the Holy Grail War proved all too much.

It was a very basic rule of the world. Power always influenced reality, and a secret power was all the more so.

It was the primary reason for him to wear a mask. If the Magic-User/Vigilante Archer and Emiya Shirou weren't considered the same person, the effect of that alteration would affect his surrounding a lot less. It was for the sake of protecting his friends, before himself, from the repercussion of his actions.

And now he was about to pull somebody in this twisted existence of his, even if only partially. Nezumi already risked his life because of it, but he had been given a choice: face the police for his small crimes or work for him. Perhaps Nezumi hadn't seen it as much of a choice, but he could have just walked away from his offer.

Dojima Ryutaro wasn't as lucky. He had something that Nezumi lacked: a sense of duty. He was a cop, and a driven one at that. His ideals didn't coincide with Shirou's, but he wasn't a bad man and he wasn't the kind of person that would simply ignore a crime because of danger either. Once he got involved, there wasn't a chance that he would turn back.

His choice of job proved that he was willing to take risks, but did that mean that Shirou had the right to take advantage of that?

He didn't think so, but then again, this wasn't about him.

* * *

><p>Dojima parked in front of his house and stopped the engine. The road was empty at that hour and Nanako was certainly asleep by now. He pulled another all-nighter and the next morning he would leave before his daughter would even get up.<p>

He loved his daughter very much, but he was a better cop than he was a father. He hated himself for that, but the truth was that he could hardly stand being in his daughter's presence. She reminded him too much of her mother and how he failed both of them by not being able to bring her murderer to justice.

It had been a typical hit-and-run, but he never managed to find the culprit. He spent days and nights searching for clues, trying to find the bastard who took his wife's life, but there were few witnesses and even less evidences.

He buried his grief and his shame in his work with the result of distancing himself from the last living relative he still had. Well, he had a sister and a nephew living abroad but hadn't heard from them in years so they didn't count.

He was lucky that Nanako was a responsible girl and more than capable of taking care of herself. Yet…sometimes the way she looked at him made him understand that she still needed her father, and he didn't know how to be one.

He honestly felt like a failure.

Sighing, he got out from his car, close the door… and promptly froze on the spot.

He wasn't alone. He definitely wasn't alone in the seemingly empty street. There was an unnatural stillness in the air that he couldn't miss, the sort of tense atmosphere that preceded a gunfight. He had sent a great deal of people in jail. He wouldn't put it past some of them to come looking for vengeance. Someone like that psychotic Matsuo from his old hometown, for instance. He should have finished his sentence a couple of weeks before with discount for good behavior. He had killed two people and kidnapped several others before Dojima and his team arrested him.

He couldn't see anyone in the road well illuminated by artificial lights, but there were many dark spots were someone could hide. Yet, the feeling of being observed didn't come from the sides but rather… from above

Instinctively his right hand drifted under his coat and a fast movement he pulled it out, spun around and pointed it above the street lamp behind him.

No one.

Just a pole with a light attached.

What the hell did he expect? Archer? He definitely needed to get some sleep.

"You really have sharp instincts, detective Dojima-san."

To his credit, Dojima did not jump out of his skin, opting to point his gun in the voice's apparent direction. An empty spot again.

"Who are you? Show yourself," he commanded with firmness.

"Not while you're pointing that thing around," the disembodied voice said. It came again from behind him. "I mean no harm, I just want to talk with you."

"You could have done it at the police station," Dojima replied still holding his gun.

"I don't think I could have walked away from that," the voice said jokingly. "Seriously, Dojima-san. Either I talk with you and leave or I just leave."

"You're presuming I'll be interested in what you have to say."

"I certainly hope so," the voice chuckled without the malice expected from someone who lurked in the shadows. "Considering that you're the one who's been looking for me for the past few weeks."

"Archer," Dojima hissed. Why hadn't he thought of him? Well, perhaps because the culprit doesn't usually go looking for the cop who's trying to arrest him. "What do you want?"

"Just exchange a few words with you without being shot or arrested in the process."

"Tough luck, kiddo. Arresting you is my primary job right now."

"I know, but either I leave right now and you won't see nor hear from me again, or you give me your word that we can have this conversation peacefully and you might find out something about me you wouldn't have a chance to otherwise. What do you have to lose?"

'_Nothing,'_ he thought to himself. "You obviously don't trust us cops or you wouldn't do the things you do. Why are you willing to trust my word?"

"If I was looking for a cop, I would have called the police," Archer said from yet another place. "I came here to talk with Dojima Ryutaro, not a cop."

Dojima sighed and holstered his gun. "You have my word." What else was he supposed to say to that?

"Thank you," Archer said walking out of a shadow not too far away from him.

The detective eyed the black clad vigilante from head to toe. His outfit prevented him from discerning anything beside his height and gender, and his voice had to be altered in some way. It was too deep to belong to a mere boy. His arms were at his sides, completely relaxed and non-threatening, but there was no mistaking the tension in the rest of his body. He was ready to jump away at a moment's notice.

"What did you want to talk about?" He asked trying not to betray his already obvious curiosity. The situation was… interesting, to say the least.

"There was a disappearance a few days ago. A high school student vanished on her way home from an evening with friends."

"Kazama Yukiko," he quoted from memory.

"Do you know of her?"

"My partner Adachi is working on her case. A typical runaway from what I've heard. I suppose that your involvement means that there's a lot more behind it. Or is your interest in her something personal?"

"The first one," he answered without losing a beat. Too bad. Dojima hoped that he could connect the girl to him and work his way from there. "I've been looking into her disappearance, but came out with very little. One of my... informants, however, was almost killed because of it."

Dojima narrowed his eyes. He hadn't heard of any attempted murderer, but then he remembered hearing of a notorious assassin for hire being arrest.

"You're the one that got that Sakaki guy yesterday," he commented. "Tch. I should have known that my colleagues couldn't get to a guy like that on their own."

"Yes, that was my doing. I thought that you would know of it immediately."

"I should have," he growled, "but that doesn't matter right now. What have you got?"

Archer took an envelope from his jacket. "A list of names, mostly. Somebody in here must have a connection high enough hire a hitman of that caliber. I would question them myself, but between finding them and getting them to speak it would take me too much time. If Kazama has been really kidnapped by an organization and not by an single person, then she could be shipped anywhere at any given moment."

"If we are talking about human trafficking or prostitution, then it could already be too late," Dojima agreed. He was more than a little annoyed by the entire situation. He held out a hand. "I will pass that stuff to my colleagues."

"No," Archer refused. "If I wanted that I wouldn't have looked for you. Considering what you just said about the guy I delivered this morning, we both know that the majority of your colleagues are not to be trusted. They would either lose time trying to work out how to take credit for this without it backfiring on them, or they would make it disappear to hide their incompetence. The chances of this information getting into the hands of someone trustworthy are too slim. Kazama cannot afford us making such a bet."

Dojima rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. He was rather new inside his department, and considering his recent discoveries he couldn't quite argue with the vigilante's words.

"All right," he finally said. "I will take care of this personally, but you will answer some question in exchange for this favor."

"I will answer a single question," Archer conceded. "And nothing that could reveal my identity, so choose carefully."

A single question? He had a hundred things he wanted to ask him. He was the pivotal point of his self-appointed mission to find out what happened in Fuyuki. … Well, then why not ask him exactly that?

"All right," he agreed. "Do you have any idea of what's going on in this town?"

"You'll have to be more specific than that."

"Don't feed me this bullshit," he snapped at him. "Strange disappearances, strange deaths, suicides that don't make any sense. A hotel was demolished by unnamed terrorists after they started a fire to evacuate the people inside, and shortly after there was that fire that killed five hundred people. I don't even want to mention the sighting of strange creatures, but I probably should. There's enough crazy stuff to run a season of that old American series and no one talks about it. What's. Going. On."

Dojima watched Archer's eyes widening as he ranted his suspicions, only to narrow them in what looked like an expression of serious concern. It was difficult to say with the mask hiding most of his face, but the evident reaction from the boy that didn't fear fighting criminals and facing a detective was proof enough that he knew something. He had to.

* * *

><p>Shirou was shell-shocked. His heart hammered at an impressive rate while his mind explored the potential implication of what he just heard.<p>

Why? Why did he know of such things? The organization and the Tohsaka family should have taken care of every piece of evidence and witness, but evidently a lot of stuff must have slipped them.

No, in the first place it was impossible to hide everything, especially in an era where cell phones had inbuilt cameras and Internet connections. As a matter of fact it was amazing that the Holy Grail War hadn't revealed the existence of magic to the rest of the world.

It was only thanks to the Clock Tower having control of the media and thorough, hefty bribes to politicians and law enforcers worldwide that things were kept under wraps. It was obvious that someone smart enough, driven enough, and with direct access to the police archives would realize that there was a bigger picture behind seemingly unrelated events.

It was all the more so in Fuyuki, where several different leylines crossed paths. The place was a natural magnet for spiritual creatures of all sorts and unscrupulous Magi that wanted to experiment their craft away from the eyes of the Association, but with an easily accessible source of energy. It was the reason why a trustworthy Magus was appointed as Second Owner to watch over the land.

This wasn't bad. This wasn't just a can of worms either. This was a full-fledged shit-storm that was threatening to spill over and swallow this man whole. It could very well be the start of a _Purge_ from the Association the likes of which hadn't happened in centuries.

"Archer?"

Dojima's voice snapped him out of the imaginary scenario his mind was drawing.

"Dojima-san," he said with steel in his voice. "The entire night wouldn't be enough to tell you what happened in Fuyuki in a way that made sense to you. I can only give you a warning: forget about it."

"Not a chance, kid. I'm a cop. I can't condone this kind of things. I won't just turn my head the other way and pretend it didn't happen. Tell me who's behind this, and I'll have them arrested even if I have to spend my life searching for evidence."

"No. No, you don't understand. You will do no such thing. You will not _spend_ your life. You will throw it away. These… people you want to know about… they aren't what you think. They aren't responsible for these events, they mostly try to keep them from the general public."

"To the point of killing? Did they kill to keep whatever this is that they want to keep secret from being revealed?"

"They did. And they will. If someone catches wind of you realizing even just this much you are dead."

"I can take care of myself," he protested.

"Not nearly enough," Archer shook his head. "Trust me. A badge and a gun won't even hold them back for a moment."

"Who are _they_?"

"The name they use for themselves wouldn't mean anything to you, nor to anyone else that wasn't part of their group. God, I can't believe we're having this conversation. Forget about this. Don't speak about it with anyone, not even with yourself."

"I can deal with…"

"No! And besides this isn't just about you anymore. You already know too much. If they came, they wouldn't just remove you. They would kill anyone you might have even barely hinted something about this: your family, your pets and even your partner. They would kill everyone and make it look like an accident. No one would even question it twice."

"Are they from the government? A secret service?"

"I can't tell you anything more than this. Look, this is bigger than you and me both, Dojima-san. Maybe in the future I'll be able to give you a more detailed answer, but right now you wouldn't believe me. You have to be patient and trust me with this. Don't talk with anybody."

* * *

><p>Dojima wasn't the kind of person that was easily scared, but Archer's words only rekindled the flames of his fears. Whoever was this group behind the massive hush-ups, it clearly had to have a strong hold over the police and the government.<p>

His initial suspicions that Archer could be somewhat aware of these machinations were toppled by the vigilante's clear worries. To make matter worse, it didn't look like he was worried about himself at all.

It was like he was certain that this seemingly all-powerful group wasn't a threat to him. How could it be? Certainly, if they wanted to silence everyone who had even the slightest knowledge about them they would go after him too, right?

Unless….

"… You're one of these people. This group… you're one of them."

It made sense didn't it? It was the polar opposite of his initial estimation but it still fit the parameters.

"No," Archer promptly denied. "I'm not one of them, merely someone authorized to know due to particular circumstances. I'm opposed to what they do, even if I agree that certain things must be kept secret for the well being of everyone. The only thing I want is to keep people safe, and this knowledge can and will kill many. Please, Dojima-san. Trust my judgment for the time being," Shirou finished, bowing slightly at the waist.

He looked at the bowing vigilante with all the focus he could muster. In that very moment, he had to decide if he was an enemy or an ally. Could he do it? Could he trust a person hidden behind a mask? Someone who didn't answer to the very law he had sworn to uphold?

"All right," he conceded. "But you'd better not make me wait too long. In the meantime I'll try to find what I can about your missing girlfriend. How do I get in contact with you?"

"Thank you Dojima-san," he said relieved. "As for contacting me, I'll simply drop by your house every evening around this hour. Would that be fine?"

"Just don't ambush me anymore. Knock on the second window on the east side of my house. It's my study so my daughter shouldn't come there even if she was still awake."

"Got it. And thank you again for trusting me. I'll be going now."

"Hm. Careful out there, kiddo."

* * *

><p>Shirou retreated into the shadows, well out of sight, before leaping for the roofs again.<p>

In all honesty he considered himself lucky. Not only did he get the help he needed, but he also discovered a major leak in the Clock Tower's network of secrecy and had managed to contain it, at least for the time being.

It was both scary and reassuring. The fact that Dojima was capable of putting so many clues together and connect them to him was a testament to his skill. On the other hand, it was a potential time bomb.

Differently from what he did with the assassin of the previous night he couldn't just force him to forget. It worked only for recent memories since he could lock them up without compromising the rest of the mind.

If he did the same for other memories that were inevitably tied with others, then he would create holes that the mind's owner would naturally try to recover, stabling eventually in the very same evidences that originated the problem, with the aggravating knowledge that someone had purposely made him forget them.

If that happened, establishing a bond of trust with him would be nearly impossible. He would become naturally suspicious of everyone connected with the case because only someone involved with it would be interested in keeping things under wrap.

No, the best path was to win Dojima's trust, even if it meant revealing even more compromising things. He had to realize the level of danger the Association represented. He was all in favor of fighting the Clock Tower's policies, but even he wasn't enough of an idiot to think he could take them head on. That was a battle that had to be fought from the inside and with plenty of powerful allies to back you up.

However, it was frustrating how Dojima's moral strength turned out to be a pain in the ass. If he was anyone else he could have dealt with the situation in a number of ways, but Dojima could and would follow this case until it killed him and potentially half of Fuyuki with him.

There was of course also the option of silencing him permanently, but the possibility didn't even cross Shirou's mind, as it was in total contrast with his deep-rooted beliefs.

Still, that meant that he had yet another thing to worry about, far worse than the problem that brought up this confrontation. To make matters worse, he didn't have anyone who could help him make an appropriate choice in this matter.

And to be completely honest, this entire mess only reinforced his belief that working on his own was far less complicated.

It was going to be another sleepless night of worries for the hero wannabe. Sometimes, being the good guy sucked epically.

* * *

><p>Somewhere else another Magus was spending her night going through similar problems.<p>

True to her word, Tohsaka Rin slept a good portion of the afternoon only to spend the night again worrying about her friends.

Even thought the notes Emiya gave her were interesting, there was no way that she could make heads or tails out of it. She just didn't have the basic knowledge to make use of such information and it drove her mad.

A small part of her wanted to be angry with Emiya. He had to know that she couldn't do anything useful with this stuff but gave it to her nonetheless.

Another part of her felt grateful. It was painfully obvious that he gave her something to occupy her brain more than asking questions around could do. In fact, despite the effort put into reading that stuff over and over again she was less tired than the previous evening.

It had only been a clever plot to make sure she took the time to rest properly and make her stop wasting time with a course of action that wouldn't obviously bare any fruit.

Yes, grateful was probably the best way she could feel in regard to Emiya. He had definitely gained her respect by helping her without asking for anything in return. He didn't even try to cash the obvious boost in reputation that the ongoing rumors about the two of them. Of course, he clearly wasn't the type to even think such a thing, but her point remained valid.

Emiya Shirou was a good guy through and through. She was glad that he was friends with Sakura. Someone like him would certainly not hurt her on purpose, which was more than could be said of most guys she knew.

She blinked, realizing that she had allowed her thought process to wander. Eh, Emiya really did a good job of taking her mind off her problem.

It looked like that every single thing he did was to help others. Every time he met him he was doing his best to help around. He went as far as dealing with dangerous people to give her useless information to save her from herself.

She leaned back against the chair she was currently sitting on. Using her feet against the old fashioned table's support she pushed back, making the chair undulate on its back legs. She lulled herself back and forth while she though a little more about her redheaded _–should she dare call him–_ friend.

Everything he did was for the sake of others. No matter how tired he was he still pushed himself forward and gave a little more for other people's happiness, like he desperately wanted to save them from everything. Why would someone do something like that?

'_Because I knew despair and hopelessness once, but I have been saved. __  
><em>_Now, all I want to__ do is save others from the same fate with my own hands.'_

_**THUMP!**_

She fell back ungracefully along with her chair, but she paid no mind to the inelegance of the situation nor to the throbbing pain in the back of her head.

'_No way. No way. No way. No way.'_

She didn't have any proof. It was only a feeling in her gut, but it made sense to her. He was the captain of the Archery club, for Christ's sake; a guy that went out of his way to help everyone even if he was dead on his feet. He had plenty of connections with the less savory citizen of Fuyuki and, judging by the pictures of him that circulated around the school, physically fit enough to play the role of the hero.

Why didn't anyone else ever realize it before?

Because, altruistic as he was, no one would associate him with the imaginary badass figure of the black clad vigilante, that's why.

He appeared docile and defenseless enough that even that worm of Shinji could harass him without fearing consequences. But what if it was all just a ruse?

No, even if it weren't a ruse he would still fit the profile. She knew a thing or two about having a public persona and a private one. Neither was false, even if one was a little forced at times. After all, who didn't wear at least a small mask to interact with others without unneeded frictions?

She steadied herself on the table and took a deep breath. It was a major thing; that much was certain. It definitely meant that Emiya wasn't the clueless idiot she pegged him to be.

Oh, she had no absolute certainty of his secret identity but even the suspect made things different.

Or did it?

What did he mean to her if her schoolmates and temporary search partner spent his nights helping people in trouble? Even if his motives were deeper that she had initially thought would it actually make a difference for her? If anything it meant that he was more resourceful than he let on and definitely capable of keeping a secret, and an important one at that.

That also meant that she'd have to keep her guard up around him. Someone who lived a double life like she did had a major probability of spotting something odd about her. He definitely wasn't someone that would embrace an obvious lie to preserve his misconceived perception of reality. She couldn't play him around like she did with everyone else or she'd risk being played in return.

But at that point those were simple conjectures. She had no concrete proof, and it was not the source of her predicament or its solution. She still had a very serious problem to deal with that even her resourceful ally could not solve.

She took a deep breath and pushed unneeded variables aside. Gearing up her Magus mindset she weighed her options. Considering the newfound connection between Yukiko's disappearance and the crime world brought up by Emiya she had few options left.

Actually, it was only one option. As much as she was loathe to admit it she couldn't proceed further by herself. Despite her pride screaming the opposite she had, for the very first time in her life, to ask for help to her insufferable teacher of her.

She murmured his name through gritted teeth.

"Kotomine… Kirei."

* * *

><p>AN:<p>

Looking through the web for opinion on my story I found a considerable amount of people telling me that the major flaw of "Path of the King" is the slow development. I'm aware that I'm still too inexperienced to write short yet meaningful chapters but I also try to depict characters in depth. I don't like taking for granted that my readers have the same amount of knowledge as I do. Some people who read F/SN fics have only watched the anime and never played the Visual Novel, but even without that I'd rather write a story that can be read on its own with previous knowledge.

I'm sorry if you find this boring but that's the way I like to write.

No a better note, now that the basis of the story has been deployed and character interactions defined , the plot should advance a lot more faster. 4-5 chapters and this arc should end. There will be another couple of arcs (shorter than this) before we get to the HGW.

In any case, thank you for reading and eventually reviewing.

Till next time.


	10. Converging paths

**Chapter 9 – Converging paths  
>(Published: 06.17.12 – Beta: RavingScholar)<strong>

* * *

><p>The double doors to the church opened with the usual loud noise.<p>

The place was devoid of people as usual, but Rin knew that the resident priest was already aware of her presence. Not waiting for the man to show himself at his convenience, she walked inside with the confidence of someone familiar with the place and its layout.

A small door to the left of the entrance opened to a corridor that led to the private part of the structure.

She didn't like being there. She detested the place as much as she loathed its inhabitant. Even if he was technically her guardian, Tohsaka Rin prided herself on being independent and self-reliant, both in life and in her studies.

She hated the idea of having to ask for help, especially because she knew he had been waiting for such a day for years.

Normally, she would just hit her head against the metaphorical wall until she either broke through or found a way around it, but this wasn't about herself and time was growing shorter by the day.

So, swallowing her pride, she grabbed Shirou's envelope and went to the church at the crack of dawn.

She didn't have nearly the same amount of connections Shirou possessed thanks to his familiarity with the local… organizations. However, her mentor was not just a common priest.

Very few knew that the Church actually had a group that wasn't unlike the secret services of other nations, with the exception that it didn't deal with the mundane aspects of the world, but rather with its supernatural side.

For a long time they had been at war with the Clock Tower, but in recent times they settled in an odd cooperative relationship. As proof of this, they sent one of their own men to supervise the land where a war between Magi took place for the possession of an all-powerful artifact.

Kotomine Kirei. Her father's apprentice, her mentor and the most insufferable man she had the displeasure of knowing…was the only person she could ask for help in that moment.

And she hated every minute of it.

In order to gather data and discern where and when to deploy its agents, the Church had one of the most impressive information networks know to mankind. … Well, actually _unknown_ to most of mankind.

It was definitely what she needed to complete the puzzle and hopefully find her lost friend.

She reached the door to his study and lifted a hand.

"Come on in, Rin," the voice from the other side said before she had a chance to knock. Dressed in his usual priestly outfit, Kotomine was standing in front of a shelf, obviously putting some books back in their place. "I didn't expect you here today. Have you finally reached a wall in your studies and decided to seek my help?"

"As if," she scoffed with her arms crossed over her chest. "My Thaumaturgy is advancing quite well, thank you very much."

"I see. Then I believe some other reasons bring you to my abode. You were never one to enjoy my company more than necessary."

'_You can say that again,'_ she thought. "As much as I dislike the idea of asking you for help, I have a… mundane problem I can't solve with my resources alone."

"Oh? This is unexpected. Although, I suppose that being your guardian, I should have known something like this would have happened one day."

"You're wrong," she corrected. "I'm not here to ask your assistance as my guardian, but as an agent of the Church."

Kirei's mildly amused expression became a frown of seriousness at her words. Rin could tell this wasn't something he expected her to say. For one thing, she had no reason to deal with the Church unless there was something she couldn't handle by herself in her capacity of _Second Guardian_, but she had made it already clear that her problem wasn't of the supernatural kind.

That pretty much meant her motives were personal, and as such, entirely not a concern of the Church.

"Rin, there should be no need for me to tell you this, but if you ask the Church for a favor you must be ready to pay the price for it one day. As the only heir of the Tohsaka family, are you willing to risk being indebted to us?"

"I wouldn't have come all this way if I didn't made up my mind already."

"Of course," he smiled. "You are not one to waste time pointlessly. Very well, since this is the first time you've actually asked me anything, I will try and give you whatever help you might need."

Nodding sharply, Rin pulled out the envelope and passed it to him.

"A friend of mine disappeared a few days ago. I've already excluded every other possibility and now I'm sure she has been kidnapped. Another friend procured a list of names that might be involved with this, but we both lack the resources to connect the dots."

Kirei sprawled the contents of the envelope on his desk, quickly moving from sheet to sheet.

"This friend who brought you all of this information must have some deep connection with the local underworld," he said pondering what he was reading. "I'm worried that you might be associating with the wrong people, Rin."

"I can take care of myself, so let's stick to the problem at hand. Can you do something with this data?"

"If the source is reliable, then there's a high chance that I might have a response by this evening. The question remains, can you trust this person to not have an ulterior in this?"

That was something she had thought about already. As a Magus, the concept of Equivalent Exchange was paramount, and someone helping her without asking or even expecting something in return was unsettling to a certain degree. Not that she didn't understand selfless kindness; she just wasn't used to being on the receiving end of it. The point remained that Emiya had nothing to gain except perhaps the fulfillment of his wish of wanting to help out others, if he actually was who she thought he was.

"As far as I can tell, I have no reason to distrust him. That doesn't mean I'm not going to watch out for eventual danger from that direction."

"You have already considered every implication, as usual. I will make a few inquiries and I'll let you know something by this evening."

"Thank you," she said honestly, even though it was an effort on her part. "I appreciate it."

She didn't wait for an answer, knowing that there wouldn't be one. She left the building and headed for school. Thankfully she wasn't going to be late in spite of her detour.

* * *

><p>Kirei silently watched the door close behind Rin.<p>

The situation was interesting, to say the least. Rin had made it quite clear over the years that she hated the thought of asking for help, especially to him.

Of course, he knew that Rin's detached countenance wasn't entirely genuine. She was a person who cared for others like any human being; she simply preferred not to show it. He should have seen it coming that she would look for help not for herself but for somebody else, but regardless of that she had to have swallowed a good portion of her pride and explored every other avenue before actually seeking him out.

In spite of the entertainment he got from his ward's inner turmoil he decided to do his best to help her, for many different reasons.

For one thing, he took his duty to the church very seriously and he couldn't just ignore a Second Guardian request, especially if that meant putting her in the Church's (and his) debt.

Secondly, he wanted to follow the situation personally. He never once thought himself omniscient, but that his apprentice was involved with shady people, and he was unaware until she told him, didn't sit well with him.

Lastly… well, the plight of men never failed to amuse him, so he would take a first row seat and enjoy the situation unfold.

In any case, he had everything to gain and nothing to lose. Plus, having Rin owe him even the smallest of favors was something he could exploit in the months to come, especially with the War coming sooner than expected.

Yes, that was definitely something he could take advantage of, and all he had to do was make a few calls.

Sometimes it was just too easy…

* * *

><p>The day passed without anything like previous day's shenanigans, which was something to be thankful of. Still, Shirou had the distinct impression that some of the other students were sending him contemplative looks. He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he decided that not being seen in public with Tohsaka was the best choice at the moment. He definitely didn't need people stalking him all the time, especially considering his… hobbies.<p>

He didn't go looking for her and she didn't come looking for him. It meant that both of them had nothing new to discuss, and considering that they had schoolwork to catch up with, unnecessary chatting was not an option.

He'd have to focus on the strictest necessities and conserve his energies, both mental and physical, in hope that Dojima would find out something for him to work with.

That was another source of worry for him. He definitely hadn't expected the detective to stumble upon Fuyuki's secret nature. Of course, he had no idea of what exactly was going on in the city, but he was smart enough to figure that it was something foul.

That didn't bode well. He had used extra caution while addressing that subject with him. Unlike Kuzuki-sensei, who had no reason or credibility to shout about the existence of magic, Dojima was a respected detective. That wasn't nearly enough to make him a danger to the Association, but it was quite enough to make the Association a danger for him.

Not being good enough to remove the memories nor ruthless enough to dispose of him preemptively, his only option was to win his trust before revealing exactly how deep the events he uncovered went.

But that was an entirely different matter, and he really needed to focus on his top priorities.

This meant understanding the stream of babble his biology teacher was writing on the blackboard.

Sometimes keeping up his standards wasn't easy at all…

* * *

><p><span>Later that evening – Tohsaka Mansion<span>

If her deceased father saw her in that moment he would have been mildly disappointed.

Elegance and countenance was the trademark of the Tohsaka family. Controlling their own emotions and strolling through the battlefield, whatever it might be, was paramount to them.

Therefore, the sight of his daughter pacing restlessly through the halls would have annoyed him more than he would have been willing to admit. If he wasn't already dead, that is.

Still, Rin couldn't help herself. She had learned very well how to maintain control in difficult situations, but that implied that she actually had something to focus on, instead of just having nothing to do but wait…like she was doing in that moment.

_**RIIIIIING!**_

A second before the old fashioned telephone rang she was several meters away from it, but as soon as the communication device had ended its first ring the receiver was already in Rin's hand.

"Tohsaka speaking."

"Rin, It's Kirei. I found something that could interest you. Come over as soon as you can."

"I'm on my way," she announced and quickly ended the conversation. She grabbed her coat and rushed out of the door.

* * *

><p><strong>At the same time<strong>

Shirou opted to walk to his destination instead of taking the _highway,_ seeing how it was still relatively early for his meeting with Dojima. A slow walk actually helped him gather his thoughts. His schedule was usually frenetic and he didn't have much time to spend idly, so the forced break was actually appreciated.

Taking longer than usual, he finally reached the big intersection that connected several parts of the city. If he crossed the road he would reach the residential area where Sakura and Tohsaka lived.

Speak of the devil, wasn't that Tohsaka coming down the road at breakneck pace? Even from afar, Shirou could tell that she was wearing a resolute expression that she usually didn't show. He was about to call out to her when she stopped a taxi and sped toward the town.

For a moment Shirou wondered if he should follow her, but he soon realized that by the time he found a place to change and got himself set properly, she would already be out of sight. Besides, he had another place to be and Tohsaka could definitely take care of herself.

Half an hour later he was back in his Archer outfit and moving stealthily from rooftop to rooftop. There were still plenty of people out and about but, not many looked up at the sky and he made sure to always be in the darkest spot available.

To the best of his knowledge, he wasn't spotted the entire time until he finally reached his destination. Kneeling on the roof he supported his weight on his hands and peeked upside down in the window indicated him the previous evening.

He didn't like being distrustful, but he had to make sure that there wasn't any ambush waiting for him. The man who lived in this house had every intention of arresting him after all.

"Trace on," he muttered and allowed the blueprint of the building to form in his mind. There were several rooms but only one person inside beside the detective himself. A girl around his age, most likely Dojima's daughter, was in a room on the same floor but far enough not to overhear anything they said.

Reassured by what he found out he knocked two times on the glass panel and waited.

* * *

><p>Even though he knew the strangest guest was about to arrive, Dojima was not one to lose focus. Having returned home earlier than usual, he brought some documents with him, so that he could get some paperwork done while he waited for the vigilante.<p>

He was focused enough not to notice the eyes peeking at him from the roof until he heard the sound of knuckles against glass.

**TOK TOK!**

He sharply turned his head to the side, his hand almost reaching for the gun he wasn't wearing at the moment, before his brain kicked into gear and realized that it wasn't a thief. Sighing, he rubbed his nose and stood to open the window.

Holding the edge of the roof, Archer threw himself inside the opening legs first, landing into a silent crouch.

Despite having to admire the boy's above average agility Dojima made a mental note to discover how he got up there. To the best of his knowledge there wasn't an easy way to climb all the way to the roof.

"Good evening, Dojima-san," Archer greeted.

"You're earlier than I expected," he commented off handedly.

"I prefer to have an early start on most things. It usually saves more time later on."

Dojima nodded. Ah, if only his colleagues had half of the boy's zeal toward work.

"That's a good work ethic," he said approvingly. "Though you aren't here to discuss that sort of stuff."

"Indeed. Did you find anything?"

"Maybe," he said returning to his desk. "To be completely honest, there wasn't much to work with. The people mentioned in your notes are not exactly law abiding, but besides that I didn't find anything in their illegal activities to link them together."

"So it's a dead end," Archer said groaning.

"Not at all. Like I said, there was no illegal activity connecting them, so I looked into the legal ones. Turns out that five of these guys work for an import-export company here in Fuyuki. There's nothing wrong with that per se, but most employers aren't too accepting of a person with records like they have, much less five of them."

"Unless they were looking specifically for someone who wouldn't have too much trouble crossing the line again," Shirou reasoned.

"Exactly," Dojima nodded. "Of course there's no proof that something illegal is going on at all. I checked its background, but Tokugawa Exports is clean as far as the law goes. However, that could also only mean that illicit activities have yet to be discovered."

"I see. Did you say that this company has an office here in Fuyuki?"

"A warehouse to be precise," he confirmed. "A great deal of their stuff gets here by train before being shipped to China, Taiwan and Roanapur."

"Roanapur? That's not the kind of place a law abiding business would be inclined to send its stuff."

"Yes, and while that alone is not incriminating, considering the situation at hand it only reinforces our suspicions. Still, it's not enough to warrant an investigation."

"Not an _official_ investigation," the vigilante pointed out.

"Don't say something like that in front of me," Dojima grumbled. "Look kiddo, even helping you just this much is stretching my morals. To be honest, if it wasn't because I wanted your cooperation I would already have brought you in."

"I'm sorry for troubling you," Archer said apologetically. "But I'm not sorry for what I'm doing. There are times when the law isn't enough to protect the innocent."

"I know," Dojima admitted begrudgingly. "That's why I'm willing to overlook what you're doing for the time being. In the end you are the lesser of two evils and I'm a practical person. Go do what you have to do now, but don't ever give me a reason to regret my choice."

"I won't. Thank you, Dojima-san."

* * *

><p>Shirou left the Dojima household immediately and slipped into the shadows, before making a beeline toward the address the detective had given him.<p>

It was, as expected, in the industrial area of the city and close enough to the docks to be entirely deserted at night, yet still close enough to the zone where Yukiko had disappeared to think that she was taken there.

However, while there was nobody in the surrounding streets, the building itself wasn't empty at all. It was bustling with activity, and while that wasn't unusual at all, the two guys standing guard at the door weren't the most likable fellows.

Especially if he took into consideration the obvious bulges under their jackets, the telltale of a gun.

He studied the comings and goings for about half an hour, using his reinforced hearing to grasp tidbits of conversations. There wasn't much he could hear from outside the building and the people unloading trucks and loading containers looked and acted like normal workers. If something illegal was going on, either they didn't know it or they were smart enough not to speak of it where they could be overheard.

Well, standing there was of no use by that time. Taking extra care to not be seen, he avoided the illuminated areas and moved onto the roof of the warehouse.

Crouching, he placed a hand on the concrete surface and hit the figurative trigger in his head.

"Trace on."

Much like he did before with Dojima's house, he began tracing the structure of the building and its contents. It was much more difficult than before, due to the size and the number of people dwelling inside. There was too much information to take in all at once and so he skimmed the unimportant stuff.

The containers inside the structure were filled with different sorts of goods, none of them illegal from what he could tell. He was beginning to think it was just another dead end when the blueprint in his mind expanded beneath the first floor.

There was another floor below the street level, much bigger than the rest of the building in terms of total surface area. It was accessible only through a canal that opened on the sea or by a set of stairs hidden in a smaller storage room on the east side of the first floor.

Focusing even further on that part of the building he detected the presence of twenty-six people, ten of which were females chained to walls. They were apparently unhurt and in good health, but otherwise they were too far away to discern if they had been abused in some way.

Clenching his jaw at the possibility he prepared himself to sneak inside the building, when his attention was caught by a taxi parking not too far away from his location. He immediately recognized the passenger in the back seat and his eyes widened.

'_Oh no. How the hell did she find about this place?'_

* * *

><p>The taxi reached a stop at the intended destination. The middle aged male driver turned to his passenger.<p>

"Are you sure this is the place, miss?"

"Absolutely," Rin said confidently and handed over the money before leaving the car. The driver shot her one last worried glance before shrugging and driving away. He probably thought she was involved in something unsavory, and while he was close enough to be correct, he probably was far enough from what he imagined to be completely wrong.

She had asked him to leave her a few hundred meters from the place Kirei had told her about, so that she could survey the area before trying anything.

The major problem was figuring out if the place was in fact where Yukiko was kept or if it was just another hole in the water. She supposed that she couldn't find out without sneaking inside, but for that purpose she would have to know at least a few ways in and, more importantly, a few ways out. If push came to shove, she could hypnotize someone to let her in. Mind related Thaumaturgy wasn't exactly her field of expertise, but she knew enough to persuade Mundanes to do what she asked unless they found it repulsive or life threatening.

Silently she got closer to the building…

… only to be suddenly grabbed by the hand and pulled into the darkness of a small alley.

Honed instincts of a practiced martial artist kicked in and her own fist shot toward her aggressor. To her surprise, her blow was deflected easily, and she prepared herself to defend herself from an incoming attack.

Instead, the hand holding her arm loosened its grip, allowing her to take a step back and drop into a defensive crouch. She squinted her eyes, trying to adapt to the sudden change in lighting.

The outline of a dark clad figure finally became visible not too far from her. The person's hands were both raised to show the lack of ill intent.

"Archer," she said recognizing the vigilante. She couldn't help the tone of surprise in her voice.

What were the odds that it was just a coincidence? How probable was it that he actually wasn't who she thought he was?

Both Emiya and she had the same information, and while she didn't know if her schoolmate had access to a network as efficient as the Church's, it was too much of a coincidence that he showed up there at the same time as her.

"You have a penchant for wandering in dangerous places, miss," he said ironically.

"What can I say? I love the thrill," she joked.

"You shouldn't be here," he replied. "This place isn't safe."

"No, this is exactly where I'm supposed to be. You being here only reinforces my conviction that this is the right place."

The vigilante grumbled, obviously displeased by the sudden turn of events. She watched him as he pondered his next move, always careful not to show an opening for her to exploit.

She was mildly flattered that he considered her dangerous just by their short exchange of blows.

"You aren't just going to leave, are you?"

"Not at all," she declared firmly.

Another moment of silence passed between them before…

"… If she's still here, Kazama is probably held captive in an underground facility. We can get inside either by a channel on the sea or by a door inside this building. I would recommend going through the first one."

"Are you saying that you want me to come with you? Just like that?" Rin asked, sounding dubious.

"You are not going to leave no matter what I say, and I don't want to fight you either. We might as well coordinate our efforts at this point."

Well, that was unsettling in an oddly pleasurable manner. No matter how popular she was in school, no one actually considered her an equal. Her peers worshipped her, and the teachers, while well meaning in her regards, considered her just another child.

Then there was Kotomine, but… urgh! She didn't care what that insufferable man thought of her.

Yet this boy, be it Emiya or not, acknowledged her resolve and skills, promptly adapting the situation to integrate her into his plans.

"Count me in," she finally declared.

* * *

><p>He sucked epically. Shirou had to admit that much.<p>

Kiritsugu would chew his head off if he knew just how much his initial plans went FUBAR just in the beginning stage. He had been taught to plan every detail and every possible outcome of a situation so as not to be caught unprepared.

Yet every move he made led to him having to deal with an unexpected factor. He had no idea how Tohsaka had found her way there, but the fact remained that she was now present and had no intention to let him deal with the situation by himself.

That opened an entirely new can of worms. With her along he couldn't use his Thaumaturgy without giving away his identity as a Magus, and she too would have to refrain from using her spells too openly.

… Unless she was planning to hypnotize him afterward, which was even worse.

At that point, however, there wasn't much he could do. He'd have to wing it as he went.

They made their way around the building, Tohsaka a few steps behind him. She was extremely light-footed; no doubt an advantage of her proficiency with the martial arts, which was definitely above average.

Thankfully, that particular fact meant that if they played their cards right, they would have no need to resort to magic. He had plenty of arrows in his quiver and he wasn't too shabby at close range either. They had to remain unnoticed though, or they would have to face guns. He wasn't sure he could survive that situation without reinforcing his body.

With that in mind they reached a metal stair placed on the side of the docks and above the sea.

* * *

><p>Rin followed the vigilante in silence, studying his movements as well as their surroundings. He was being careful, but his movements exuded extreme confidence, as expected from someone who spent his time like he did.<p>

It was in stark contrast with Emiya's reserved behavior, but that didn't really mean anything. She knew a thing or two about having a secret personality, after all.

His identity aside, she was grateful for his presence. While she was _forced_ to limit her use of Magecraft, it also meant that she could _afford_ to limit her use of Magecraft, thus having to deal with less possible consequences from exposing the secret to the common people. Having the Clock Tower intervene in her personal matters would have a major negative impact on her chances to get a sponsorship.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Archer pulled an arrow out of his quiver and shot it in one fluid motion. The sound of a body slumping followed his attack, and she had to admire both his precision and eyesight. She'd had no idea someone was standing there in the darkness.

"A guard?"

"Maybe, but maybe not," he replied pointing a still lit cigarette on the ground. "This guy was probably just having a smoke. This means we have around five minutes before they come looking for him. We have to hurry."

She nodded and chased after him as he set in a fast running pace. The canal was wide enough to allow a small boat to navigate through it and had a rather narrow sidewalk. The red lamps on the wall offered little illumination, but it was enough not to trip on something.

At the end of the tunnel they found an empty motorboat and a door leading to the floor Archer had told her about.

"This is it," he announced looking at her. "Last chance to turn back."

She just leveled him a glare in response.

"Right. I'll take out the captors; you free any prisoners you find. There should be around ten women kept in here. Gather them and take them out through this way. You can do that, right?"

"Sure," she confirmed. It was a sound plan, considering what little she knew of the place. She also didn't have a weapon like he did, so leaving the fighting to him was the obvious choice.

"Let's go them."

He pulled the door open and moved in, bow at the ready.

Before she had even a chance to examine her surroundings, two arrows went flying ahead, hitting an equal number of targets.

The vigilante didn't stop moving and kept running ahead until they turned sharply to the right down another corridor.

"Hey, who the hell ar..." _**WSSSHH-THUK!**_

"Four down," Rin observed quietly.

"There's bound to be more of them. Stay sharp," Shirou replied tersely.

They turned to the left, stumbling into another pair of men. Too close to use his bow, Archer opted to bury his foot in one of the men's face.

To his credit, the other man had sharp reflexes and immediately lunged toward the vigilante in an attempt to grab him. Too bad for him, he either didn't notice or didn't consider the young girl standing right behind his target to be a threat.

Rin buried her right elbow in the man's stomach with a strength that no one would guess she could muster with that slender frame of hers. Another fist connected with his chin when he doubled over in pain, robbing him of consciousness.

"Nice going," Archer observed, amused.

"Thanks. You're not half bad either."

They resumed their run and no long afterward they were standing in front of a sturdy looking metal door.

"They're in here," he announced confidently.

"How do you know?"

"I have my sources. Stand back, I'm going to break this down."

* * *

><p>If he had been alone, he would have reinforced the lock to the point of breaking. It was an inconspicuous and nearly soundless method, but with Tohsaka present he had to resort to more violent ways.<p>

As opposed to what's normally believed, trying to break a door open by slamming your shoulder against it…it's not a good idea.

Instead he opted for slamming his foot near the lock, sending the entirety of his strength toward the only part that he really needed to break. It wasn't soundless, but it was fairly more silent than the other options.

The third stomp was finally too much for the lock to withstand, as it tore open with a loud crack. The door swung open allowing light to invade the previously dark room.

* * *

><p>As soon as the door was open Rin walked inside, careful to where she put her feet. She scanned the faces and her heart fell when she realized her friend wasn't there. Had they arrived too late? Had she been moved elsewhere? Had she even been there in the first place?<p>

"W-who is it?" A voice asked.

Nine girls were chained against the walls, wearing nothing but underwear. They looked mostly fine besides a few bruises, but their eyes were cold and emotionless, almost uncaring of the situation at hand.

The girl who spoke, the oldest of the group by the look of it, was bruised more than the others and her eyes still held a look of angry defiance in spite of the fear behind it.

"We are friends," Archer answered.

"Friends? You… I know you…," she said squinting her eyes at him. "You are that superhero I've heard about. Archer. You came to save us?"

"I'm not a superhero yet," he chuckled as he approached, "but you got the last part right. We're getting you out of here."

"I don't think so," an unknown voice said from behind them.

* * *

><p>Shirou heard the sound of a gun being cocked at him and reacted before the assailant had a chance voice the customary threats that accompanied such situations. He moved to the side and spun halfway to the left, while his fingers pulled an arrow out of his quiver and sent it flying without using his bow at all<p>

If he had been farther away from his target, such a shot would have never hit, but due to the restricted space of the room his weapon still managed to hit the arm wielding the gun.

* * *

><p>Rin didn't consider herself a fighter ,and she wasn't. Sure, she was above average when it came to hand-to-hand combat, but she just didn't have the mentality to react before thinking.<p>

Regardless of that, the time she needed to recover from the shock of hearing someone behind her was the time it took for Archer to send an arrow at the newcomer.

Trusting his ally's ability to hit a target in spite of his odd method of shooting, she turned around and delivered a series of blows to the man who dared to sneak behind her.

He fell backward but not without squeezing the trigger of his weapon a couple of times. The loud bangs echoed for several seconds through the nearly empty corridors.

"Shit," the vigilante said, encompassing with one word the gravity of the situation. There was no way that much noise would go unnoticed. "Tohsaka, I'll distract these guys while you take these girls out of here by the way we came in."

"Wait a second. Yukiko isn't here."

"Say what? Oh damn it. You're right."

"T-there was another girl here a while ago," the bruised woman said. "She had been taken away no longer that then minutes ago?"

"Taken where?" They asked at the same time.

"The guys here take one of us sometimes to have some fun. They… never took Yukiko before but…"

"Where?" They all but shouted.

"I don't know. I have no idea where the place is. They blindfold us every time they take us out of here."

"Damn it. I'm going to look for her," he said immediately.

"I'm coming with you," Rin offered immediately.

"Not this time. You have to take these girls out and call the police."

"Yukiko is my friend," Rin said heatedly.

"Look, I know this place's layout and you don't. Between you and me, I'm the one with the better chance, and someone needs to take these girls to safety. I'll bring your friend back, I promise you."

She bit her lower lip and despite the lack of time she stared into his eyes for a long moment. His stare didn't waver under her scrutiny.

"… You'd better keep your word or I'm going find you and make you regret it. "

"I got it," he nodded. "Can you spin a story to the police and keep yourself out of this mess?"

"I can handle it. Now stop wasting time and go find Yukiko."

"On it."

* * *

><p>He stood in the corridor, focused on the sounds around him as a series of heavy footsteps was coming in his direction. Good. All he had to do was let himself be spotted and lure them in a different direction.<p>

"There he is," a man shouted as soon as he saw him.

"Get him," the rest of the crows shouted.

He wasted no time and ran in the opposite direction. The men chased after him without checking their surroundings, passing in front of the barely accosted door of the makeshift cell. They didn't notice the eye peering from the inside.

He kept in sight of his pursuer long enough for them not to lose him in the maze of rooms and connected corridors, but not long enough to allow them to shoot him. He had to buy Tohsaka a little time.

Yet, his thoughts drifted for a second from his purpose to the faces of the girls trapped inside that room. Cold eyes, like broken dolls. They were the mark of one who had suffered too much abuse. He felt something black and thick fill is throat, almost making him choke.

In that moment of distraction he took a wrong turn and ended up in a dead end corridor.

"End of the run, little shit," the fastest of his pursuers said as he caught up with him, a little short of breath. The others weren't too far behind, and began smirking as soon as they realized that they held the advantage of numbers in an enclosed space.

"Now you'll get what's coming to you," another said slamming his fist against his palm.

"No," Shirou replied with barely restrained rage. "You got it all wrong. Kidnapping and abusing innocent girls… You're the ones who are going to get what's coming to you. Trace… ON!"

* * *

><p>Komuro Kato was a small time criminal like many others. Small thefts, a few cases of violence and sexual harassment were all that he had to his name. When one of his friends had pulled him inside the organization he worked for, he thought he had hit the jackpot. Nice money, fresh girls and very little work was the norm.<p>

It couldn't get any better, in his opinion.

Too bad he never once considered it could get worse.

Much, much worse.

The person in front of him couldn't be human. Humans didn't move like that. Humans weren't that strong. Human weren't able take eight opponents armed with guns with his bare hands.

Aiming was impossible. He was just too fast, and the few who had tried only ended up shooting their comrades instead.

His friend Takeshi was the first one to end up flying over their heads with his nose shattered. Himuro, the oldest of the group, found his legs bent in the wrong direction, but had no time to scream in pain as he followed Takeshi in his airborne path, courtesy of a kick to the stomach.

The rest was just too much of a blur to describe. The only thing he remembered, when he woke up afterwards, were two gold orbs burning with rage gazing into his eyes before the world went black with pain.

* * *

><p>Shirou took a deep breath and allowed his circuits to cool down. That wasn't good. He couldn't afford to let his rage, justified though it was, control him. Violence wasn't the answer, and fighting was necessary only because some people couldn't be stopped otherwise.<p>

But he couldn't help feeling powerless. He had arrived too late for those girls. Even though they were now probably on their way to safety, the abuse they had been through couldn't be taken away.

He knew he wasn't at fault. He knew he had tried his very best. He also knew it wasn't enough.

He shook away the dark line of thought and focused on the present. He had a girl to rescue. Tracing the building once more he detected five more men coming in his direction while Tohsaka and the girls were not within the building anymore. They had probably had reached the outer tunnel already, and with the commotion he caused inside the structure their captors weren't about to look for them anytime soon.

Yukiko, however, was nowhere to be found on that floor. Expanding the area of his tracing he detected three men on the upper floor carrying an unconscious girl toward a garage. Were they planning to move her somewhere else?

He wouldn't allow it.

Pumping Prana in his legs he sped toward the stairwell that led to the upper floor, putting himself on a collision course with the other thugs who were looking for him, since the road they were coming from was the shortest to his target, and it was better not to have them coming from behind if he had to fight his way to free Yukiko.

* * *

><p><strong>Upstairs<strong>

"Boss? We lost contact with the men downstairs."

"Damn it," Hitomaro Ryuji, the man in charge of operation swore. "How did that guy find out about this place? What about the girls? Are they still in their room?"

"I can't say," the bald man with the radio said. "The guy I sent looking isn't answering either."

"Send more men after him. I want that hero wannabe's head on my desk."

"Do you think that's going to work?"

The question was asked by a tall man with long purple hair, seated on a sofa in the corner of the room. He was dressed in an expensive looking black suit, with a white shirt underneath, unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of his chest.

"Do you have another idea?"

"Let me take care of him," he proposed, "I've been itching for a fight for a while. In all honesty, I was hoping for something like this to happen."

"You bastard," the bald man growled. "Have you sold us out?"

"No way," the purple haired man dismissed the accusation in an almost causal manner, "I'd never betray my employers unless they betray me first. Professional reputation and all that rot."

"In any case I need you here," Ryuji said. "If the others are going to fail…"

"Then Archer will reach us shortly after. Either way I'm going to face him. We both know the rest of your men aren't good enough to take him down. I would rather take the fight to him than wait for him to ambush us."

"… Fine. Do as you want."

"Great," he exclaimed excitedly, "Just what I wanted to hear. In the meantime, I'd suggest you take the girl and leave this place."

"Are you saying that you're going to lose?"

"I'm not so arrogant as to believe I can defeat an opponent before actually facing him, but that's not the matter. For all we know he might have already called the police and not all the men in this building know what the real purpose for this place is. No matter what, this place is doomed. Take the girl and run."

"What about the other girls? They are worth millions and our clients…"

"Consider them lost. I don't think this guy would come after us without making sure the girls were freed. A word of warning, my friend: your greed brought this upon you. If you persist, you're going to lose everything."

Ryuji gritted his teeth. He didn't like the way things were going, but he couldn't deny his bodyguard's words either.

"Fine. I'll move to another location. That man will pay three times the agreed price for this one. Fuck it, I knew that this was going to be trouble."

"Yet you allowed your greed to break the rules you devised yourself, and abducted a girl from this town, when you avoided doing it before so as to avoid unwanted attention from the police. It was a most unwise choice."

"Don't patronize me. I was offered ten times the normal price for this specific girl. What was I supposed to say?"

"What about _'no'_?" The purple haired man asked. "Frankly I thought you were smarter than this. You walked right into a trap."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. The one time you accept an odd request from a new customer, justice is immediately brought down upon you. If I were to make a bet, I'd be fairly sure that your client has put Archer after you."

It made all too much sense in Ryuji's mind, now that his bodyguard pointed it out. Could it really be that it was all a trap at his expenses? Perhaps it was another organization that wanted to get him out of the market without risking involving the police. It was all too possible.

"Damn it," he swore again. "I don't care right now why this is happening. Take that bastard out and we'll deal with the person behind him."

"Wonderful. I'll be on my way then."

He picked an extremely long katana from beside the sofa and strapped it to his back. He opened the door and slipped outside the office, closing it after heeding his employer's parting words.

"Don't let me down, Sasaki."

* * *

><p>AN: And the plot thickens. A new enemy for Shirou appears and it won't make it any easy for him to proceed. Sorry if I added a Black Lagoon reference in this chapter, but I can't resist the temptation of shouting out to other series. To be entirely honest I had initially planned of having Shirou tracking Yukiko all the way there and start a mini crossover with that series, but it would have only made things a lot more complex. I already borrowed Dojima from Persona 4. That should be enough.<p>

In any case read and review.


	11. An Assassin's Sword

**Chapter 10 – An Assassin's Sword  
><strong>(Published: 07.03.12 - Beta: RavingScholar)

* * *

><p>The basement of the warehouse could be better described as a battlefield. No one was dead, but the number of bodies that littered the room was reminiscent of a graveyard.<p>

Shirou stood amidst the chaos a little short on breath. The enclosed space didn't favor long range fighting with bow and arrows, and he had been forced to resort to Kuzuki's fighting technique. He was all the more glad that he had insisted on learning from him, because otherwise taking down an enemy with a single hit wouldn't have been as easy, unless he was willing to inflict crippling injuries. While he frankly believed that those people deserved a little pain, he wasn't comfortable with using more force than strictly necessary.

Now the way was clear, but there was still a high probability that Yukiko and her kidnappers could make it out of the building before he could get to her.

Recalling the layout of the electrical implant of the building, he reached for a box mounted in the nearby wall and pushed Prana through the wires.

Everywhere inside the building, electric appliances fried on the spot, light bulbs exploded and everything that was plugged in the electrical system was destroyed beyond recovery. The structure fell into darkness for a moment before the emergency lights lit up. Of course they were on a separate circuit and thus were unaffected by Shirou's overload.

The heavy gates that closed the garage however, were now sealed shut as a precautionary measure to avoid thefts. It would take them at least a few minutes to override the locks and get out from that way.

They could still leave by the emergency exits if so they wanted, but they would to do it on foot. Not a recommendable choice while carrying an unconscious girl.

With that knowledge in hand, he sprinted toward the stairs and to the next floor.

* * *

><p>The man that called himself Sasaki waited patiently in the room where the intruder had to go through to reach the rest of the building. His good ears picked up the sound of gunfire below him. Slowly the number of explosions diminished, and soon the building fell into silence.<p>

A moment later the lights flickered before exploding in a shower of sparks, throwing the room into pitch-black darkness. When the emergency lights turned on the swordsman was wearing a predatory grin of anticipation.

"Come to me," he whispered.

Sounds of hurried footsteps from beneath signaled the coming of his prey. At the speed he was coming up the stairs, the vigilante would barge through the door that looked like a wall in three, two, one…

… Nothing.

Not another sound was heard. Everything behind the fake wall was silent and unmoving.

He frowned in confusion, scanning the surface as if he could see through it. Honed instincts kicked in and he moved out of the way, just in time to avoid the rather thin but sturdy door pushed off its hinges and sent flying in his direction.

He pulled his katana out of the sheath in one fluid motion, cutting through the air and intercepting the flying arrows that were released toward his new position.

Oh, it was just perfect. Not even a minute into the fight and he already had to get serious.

"Now, now," he said to the darkness in front of him. "It's quite impolite to attack without showing yourself first. Why don't you- " again he had to move out of the way, using his sword to deflect those arrows that would have otherwise truck him.

"I see," he continued ,"you are not up for words while fighting, I assume. I can respect that. However…"

He charged toward the darkness, aiming to the spot where he was sure his foe was standing.

He wasn't disappointed when the vigilante had to jump out of his hiding spot, because even while on the defensive he still managed to send another couple of arrows in his direction.

"… if you are just going to stand still I'm going to cut you down."

* * *

><p>Shirou dodged the exceptionally long katana and rolled out of the way.<p>

"… if you are just going to stand still I'm going to cut you down," the purple haired man said. It wasn't an empty threat but a statement of intent. The man was dangerous, undoubtedly so.

Whoever he was, he definitely wasn't at the level of Kuzuki-sensei, but he was no slouch either. Furthermore, he used that sword like a master and the range of its attack was obviously superior to Shirou's fists.

To make things worse, arrows were apparently no good in a direct confrontation against this guy. He showed that he had enough experience, reflexes, and speed to either move or deflect long ranged attacks.

Shirou still had the advantage of his Reinforcement, but besides enhancing his strength, it still didn't offer enough speed to blindly rush into the man's guard without being struck down by his sword. An experienced swordsman, like the assassin in front of him, could determine an opponent's movements beforehand by the shift in his stance. There was an entire school of martial arts that focused on sending fake signals to deceive an opponent skilled enough to read such signs.

Shirou was nowhere skilled enough to pull out a fake opening style like that with the small amount of experience he had.

It was the same reason that he still had yet to best his teacher in spite of his magical augmentations. The gap in fighting experience was his major weakness right now. No matter how intense or numerous, training sessions only got you so far against opponents that had been through actual life or death situations.

He considered all that in a fraction of second, and while he had no doubt that his new opponent was a serious threat, there was something off about the entire situation.

Shirou had the distinct impression that, no matter how ridiculous it sounded even to himself, the sword was more dangerous that the swordsman wielding it.

A rapid surface tracing didn't reveal anything peculiar. It was an old blade, ancient even, but had no particular enhancements. It wasn't, say, a Mystic Code or a cursed item that had accidentally found its way into the hands of a normal human.

And yet…

Further contemplations had to be postponed to another time, as Shirou had to move out of the way of more incoming attacks.

Every strike the swordsman delivered was fast and precise, and only because Shirou had opted to abandon his body reinforcement in favor of his brain did he manage to react in time. As a consequence of the mismatch between his perceptions and physical reactions his movements became sloppier, but at least they got him out of the way of a very sharp death.

The situation wasn't good. He seriously hadn't planned to meet such a skilled opponent and he was running out of options. He had gained some time by messing up the electric circuits, but he was quickly losing that advantage. He didn't have the luxury of playing around with this guy.

However, making a run for it wasn't an option. The moment he turned his back on this man he would be struck down mercilessly. He needed a distraction…

"Not going to say anything? I really don't mind a little banter during a battle. Ah well, since I already know your alias, Archer-san, I might as well offer you mine. People in this business call me Sasaki, like Sasaki Kojirou, Musashi's legendary enemy."

Well, if arrows and fists didn't work maybe words would. Perhaps he could provoke his enemy into making a mistake?

"Sasaki?" Shirou finally spoke. "The fictional character?"

"Eh," the man scoffed not quite angered but certainly irritated at his simple dismissal. "Sasaki Kojirou was a real person. Oh, many things they say about him are indeed made up by over-imaginative writers, but Sasaki Kojirou, the real one, was a swordsman above all others, and this," he said showing his long blade, "was the last sword he wielded: Monohoshi-zao."

"You seem quite certain of that."

"I am. I spent a fortune in time, money and blood to get my hands on this piece of art, and I've spent all of my life mastering his techniques. I'm only missing the ultimate one, but it is said to be a technique that could rival Gods'. Nothing like that can be obtained easily."

Even to Shirou, a person who knew more about the world than most common people, that sounded like a ridiculous statement, and yet….

… he couldn't shake the feeling that there was some truth to that.

"A skilled swordsman like you..," Shirou spoke, "why are you offering your services to these people? For money?"

"Oh, vile money is but a means to an end," he said pulling his sword up to his eyes' level, pointed toward Shirou and with the reverse side to the ground. "The only reason for me to be in this city in the first place was meeting you."

"Me? What do I have to do with anything?"

"Don't you get it?" he chuckled. "In this ugly era, where strength is standardized through the use of firearms, there are still people like us: people who believe in their own power and potential; people who do things that can only be called insane or disturbed. And so I sought you, as I did in the past with many others who still believe in a different kind of strength. I knew that if I kept helping these people we would have eventually crossed paths."

"And here we are now. What do you plan to do now?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to KILL YOU!"

* * *

><p>Sasaki was ecstatic. He knew beforehand that Archer was strong, but this exceeded his expectations. Despite having the advantage of a longer reach in melee combat, he found it extremely hard to hit his target.<p>

The vigilante waved around his strikes, looking for an opening he could exploit. A moment of distraction and he would certainly receive a vicious blow that would break his bones.

That was exactly what he had been looking for, the kind of situation were a minor mistake would spell his defeat. This was what he needed to finally reach and break through his limits.

He didn't know how the boy in front of him could be so fast and strong, and frankly he really didn't care. Even if he could smash a door from its hinges without any momentum, or shoot three arrows per second with deadly precision, it didn't matter how he did it, so long as he could.

-oOo-

This wasn't going anywhere. The best Shirou could hope when fighting in close quarters with the formidable swordsman was to avoid being hit. There wasn't a single hole in his guard that he could exploit, no way he could overcome the immense gap in skills. Therefore….

… therefore he had to find a way to win without having to.

Dodging yet another powerful but graceful swing, Shirou leapt away from his foe. His opponent didn't give chase, opting to see what the vigilante was up to.

"Admirable," he said never once dropping his guard, "never before I've faced an opponent that could avoid my blade for so long. If I didn't have the advantage of reach, this battle would already have turned in your favor. However," again he rose his sword to his eyes, "it's time to end this."

'_What to do, what to do, what to do, what to do? If only there was something I could…. Oh!_'

* * *

><p>Sasaki noticed the change in his opponent's eyes. The subtle gleam of one who had found a way through an obstacle was unmistakable. In spite of the implications he found himself unable to refrain from smirking.<p>

He didn't expect for him to reach for his bow again. Had he been mistaken? Was it only the last ditch effort of a man cornered? There was only one way to find out.

* * *

><p>Three arrows. That was all he had at his disposal. Three projectiles to put Sasaki in the only place where he could hope to defeat him. If he misjudged even a single shot it would have been all for naught.<p>

Seeing his opponent shift in stance through his accelerated perceptions, Shirou crushed whatever second thought he might have had and cocked the first arrow.

In slow motion he watched Sasaki knock it down with his blade without losing his stride. The second arrow followed the first, aiming for the swordsman's left shoulder. With his sword in mid swing the swordsman was forced to spin and dodge to his right.

While the assassin pivoted to avoid the second arrow Shirou brought the last one out of the quiver, sending spark of Prana through its structure.

Under the effect of the applied energy, the arrowhead shifted as if it was made of liquid metal and then solidified in the shape intended by its wielder. No longer shaped like a ball, the now pointy projectile was no longer a common arrow either.

With a hiss of steel it sailed through the air toward its intended target.

* * *

><p>In the fraction of second between the second arrow and the third Sasaki realized he had been played somehow. He didn't yet know exactly how, but despite being turned in the other direction he could already tell that the last projectile had something different from the previous.<p>

His instinct screamed danger in a way it never did before. For the first time in a long while, he didn't know what to expect from an attack. Instead of intercepting the offending item with his sword, as he would have normally done, he halted his rotation half a step earlier and let it fly past him.

"You missed," he said, but when their gazes met, the look of certainty in the boy's eyes told an entirely different tale.

"Bullseye," the vigilante retorted.

Behind him, Sasaki heard a faint hissing noise. He turned his head just enough to see where the arrow had struck. A couple of small tanks were lined against the wall. The arrow had somehow managed to pierce through the metal and now the compressed gas was frantically escaping outside.

For a moment he didn't quite get what he hoped to accomplish with that, but then his eyes drifted to the flammable logo printed on the surface. At the very same moment, the still visible tip of the arrow ignited into a small flame all by itself.

"Tch!"

It was the last thing he said before the world went on fire around him.

* * *

><p>"GAH!" Shirou grunted as the rapidly expanding air launched his body through the air and across the door. The force of the explosion projected him several meters away, making him roll on the ground a couple of times before reaching an halt against a wall-<p>

He didn't expect that a reaction of that proportions when he shaped the arrowhead with a fire rune on its surface. He just wanted to create a distraction and strike Sasaki while he was looking elsewhere but…

He stood and watched his handiwork. The room he had previously been in was a blazing inferno. The flames were already spreading outside, attacking the crates and the wall of the building. There was no way someone could survive in there.

He had just…

'… _Killed a man. I killed a man. I killed a man. Killed a man, killed a man, killedaman, killedaman killedaman! NO!'_

Suppressing the urge to vomit that was quickly getting a hold over him, Shirou gritted his teeth and pushed the haunting thought aside. That wasn't the moment. He couldn't freeze, couldn't stop, couldn't waver. Yukiko still had to be rescued.

Sasaki's life was lost but that wasn't reason enough to forfeit his mission.

Quenching the nausea he made his way in the direction of the garage, where Yukiko and her captors were hopefully still blocked.

Had his mind not been muffled by regret and guilt, he would probably have heard the strike coming.

He hadn't taken three steps toward his destination when the scabbard impacted with his legs, making him stumble and fall on the ground in an ungraceful manner.

Immediately turning in the direction of the attack he saw something that was both elating and terrifying.

Sasaki Kojirou walked out of the blazing room with an ominous look on his face. Further enhancing his looks were the burns on his left arm and visage. His once long hair was now considerably shortened.

How he had managed not to be blown to pieces or burned to ashes Shirou didn't know, but as ridiculous as it sounded, he couldn't be happier at the outcome.

"I have gravely misunderstood you, Archer-san," the assassin declared without the slightest inflection of anger in his voice. "I thought you were a _fighter_ like me, but you are a _warrior_ instead. To think that you would use the environment as your own weapon… that was a serious blunder on my part."

"How did you…" Shirou wanted to ask. Sasaki merely shrugged.

"I cut the air to create a void," he explained like it was a common thing. "It was one of the techniques developed by Kojirou to cut beyond the reach of his sword. I never managed to employ it in such a manner before, perhaps because I had yet to be caught in an explosion. Truly, I'm most grateful for your assistance."

"You… really believe what you just said, don't you?"

"But of course. My whole life is for the sake of advancing my swordsmanship. To be wounded or to be killed are eventualities I put into account from the moment I decided to walk down this path. To bear resentment toward you would be most undignified."

"I see…, "Shirou admitted. And he did. Although he couldn't quite grasp Sasaki motives, he certainly could understand the driving force behind them. To put his own life on the line for the sake of his dreams… he was more similar to him than anybody else he met before.

"Now then… shall we continue?"

Shirou didn't question the man's resolve. He didn't question his willingness to continue fighting in spite of his wounds. If he was anything like him, then his own well being was secondary compared to his dream.

Pulling his fists in front of his chest, Shirou resumed _The Snake_ guard stance. At that point there was no turning back, and no backing away either.

He would surpass this man or he would die trying.

Without another word, he charged.

* * *

><p>Sasaki smiled. Even though his left arm was unusable and his face burned, he smiled. The light in his opponent's eyes was one of understanding. The reasons for them to fight were completely different, but that didn't matter. They had acknowledged one another.<p>

Throwing away pointless concerns they moved to strike, both willing to break the other and themselves in order to step forward on their path of choice.

Archer came at him, fast and determined to strike first. Whatever sense of self-preservation he might have had was discarded to fight at the top of his skills. That was good, that was what he wanted.

Ignoring the pain he met him halfway and swung his sword in a horizontal motion. It was an awkward movement and nowhere near the level of his previous strikes, but it was still blindingly fast and strong.

He watched the blade sink into the arm of his opponent, carving through skin and muscle until it reached a halt against the bone. He wanted to slide the blade backward and away, to deliver the finishing blow but…

* * *

><p>The blade dug into Shirou's skin and muscles. His reinforcement managed to absorb most of the swing's power, but it was the bone, the hardest and easiest part to reinforce that finally halted the attack.<p>

In that moment he did something that was in equal parts reckless and brilliant.

He reinforced the flesh around the wound. Pouring and pouring Prana until the muscles broke, expanded and hardened with the consistency of a rock, effectively trapping the blade inside his body. It was the stupidest thing he ever did and therefore one not likely to be predicted by the swordsman.

The pain was blinding, both because of the wound and the excessive reinforcement, but it did its job. It wouldn't hold for long, but the look of surprise in Sasaki's eyes was the telltale sign of the opening Shirou was looking for.

His right fist targeted the assassin's arm. The sound of bones breaking under his knuckles was not unlike the ringing of a bell during a match.

In spite of his desire, Sasaki was forced to let the blade go, still buried in Shirou shoulder. With both arms incapacitated he would not be able to hold a blade for a long time.

* * *

><p>He staggered backward with his arms limp at his sides. He leaned against a pillar, breathing heavily from the combination of pain and effort.<p>

Defeat.

There was no longer a way for him to fight. By sacrificing his own arm, Archer had taken his, effectively concluding the battle.

"And so it ends…" he said bitterly. "I never imagined that I would be defeated like this, but it doesn't matter. I fought at the best of my abilities. I have no regrets."

His sword clattered on the ground, released from the impossible hold of flesh and bone.

The vigilante nursed his wound while keeping an eye on him. The cut looked bad, far more than it would have been if the injury had been caused only by his blade.

"… Can you get out of here by yourself?"

"Are you just letting me go?" he asked with no little amount of surprise.

"I don't have a choice," he explained, removing his jacket and ripping his shirt to make a bandage for his shoulder. "I don't have time to tie you up and take you out, and if just knock you out and leave you here…" he jerked to the flames with a nudge of his head. During their fight the fire had spread and was now consuming an entire wall. The smoke sensors and the sprinklers had probably been broken between the electric overload and the explosion.

"I see," he finally commented.

* * *

><p>Tightening his bandages, Shirou stood straighter. Even by sending his Prana to Avalon, healing that kind of damage would take a few days. The best he could accomplish was numbing the pain a little, acquiring an awkward mobility. Even if he'd still had arrows, using the bow was out of the question.<p>

"Take it," Sasaki said understanding his line of thought. "My sword. Take it with you."

"What? Why would you give me that sword? I thought it was something priceless."

"It is," he admitted, "but the purpose of a sword is to be wielded. Until both my arms heal I can't use it. There is no need for it to rust because of my weakness. Besides," he chuckled, "so long as you have it, you won't forget that one day I'll come to take it back, along with your life."

Shirou picked Monohoshi-zao from the ground with no little amount of reverence and caution. Now that it was in his hand, the long katana felt even more dangerous than before.

His eyes returned to the assassin. "So long as you promise not to put innocents in danger, I'll accept your challenge again next time."

"Feh! You're such a bleeding heart, Archer-san. As you wish. As the loser of this battle, I'll accept your conditions."

Having regained some of his breath, he stood straight again, fixing his gaze on his opponent. "Become stronger, Archer-san. Next time I will not underestimate you again."

Without waiting for a word of acknowledgement, Sasaki turned around and limped toward the exit.

As he watched him disappear between flames and smoke, Shirou sheathed the sword and awkwardly strapped it to his back. It was almost tall as he was, and only because it hung diagonally across his back did it not touch the floor as he moved around.

It was better than proceeding without a weapon at all, but he was sure he couldn't use it properly, not with his height and with a single arm.

Pushing the thought aside he made his way toward the garage were hopefully Yukiko's captor were still blocked.

* * *

><p>"I'm almost done boss," the muscled, bald man shouted as he tinkered with the big metal shutter that closed the garage filled with small trucks and several cars.<p>

"About time," Ryuji shouted back from the side of the car. "I don't trust that Sasaki and that explosion a while ago isn't a good sign either. The sooner we get out of here, the better."

"You aren't going anywhere," an unknown voice said from somewhere above him.

Unlike most idiot thugs, Ryuji didn't bother asking who spoke, but simply drew his gun and shoot a couple of bullets toward the voice. They flew through empty space and impacted against a wall, completely missing their target.

"Tch," he snarled. "I should have known that Sasaki wasn't as good as he said to be."

"Oh, but you're wrong," the disembodied voice said. "Sasaki was very good…but not good enough."

No one said anything for a moment and the silence was broken by the sound of a door slamming open. In a surprising show of intelligence, the bald man had escaped through an emergency exit.

"Bastard," he snarled after his traitorous companion.

"Money can't buy you loyalty," the voice said.

"Fuck you," he said to the empty space in front of him but with his eyes darting in all directions. "I don't need life lessons from a brat. Who sent you? Huh? What bastard sold me out?"

"Your own actions sold you out," the voice answered with no effort of concealing the underlying anger. "You honestly thought that you could continue this monstrosity forever? Think again. It's time to close the curtain on your business."

"Shut up, you bastard! Just shut up!" He pointed the gun toward the sleeping from of the girl resting on the back seat. He chuckled. "Tell you what. You open up the shutter for me, and I won't put a bullet between the eyes of this little bitch. How does that sound for a deal?"

"I don't like it," the voice said, this time sounding awfully close, like he was just behind him.

There was no time to turn, no time to keep his threat to shoot the girl who had caused so many troubles. There was a hiss of steel and the gun, the goddamn gun was cut in two part like it was made of paper. Out of fear he rolled away, turning just enough to see his assailant with Sasaki's sword in his hand.

His bloodshot eyes were positively murderous, burning with a rage he had never seen before. He was wounded and looked more than a little tired. No matter how strong he actually was, taking down someone at the end of his rope shouldn't have been too much of a problem but the coward's instincts told him not to mess with the haggard hero.

Pulling out his second gun he stood on his feet and slowly made his way toward the exit walking backward.

* * *

><p>Archer watched the mastermind of the crime ring pointing a gun at him. He could have attacked him but frankly speaking he had very little energy left and there was no real intention of shooting in his eyes. If he was just going to leave then he had no reason to pursue. Considering what he saw from a window before he got there, he wouldn't go too far.<p>

Besides, he had very little energy left and he needed all of it to take Yukiko out and to leave the scene.

The man finally reached to door and kicked it open, disappearing beyond it immediately afterward. Sagging in relief, Shirou sheathed the sword and turned to the unconscious girl. No amount of nudging managed to wake her up. She had probably been drugged so that she wouldn't resist during the transfer. At least she was unhurt, and there was no trace of the abuse the other girls had suffered.

Good. Good! Finally something positive. Tohsaka would be relieved and so would be Yukiko's parents.

Gently he pulled her out of the car, and ignoring the pain in his arm he lifted her bridal style. Slowly, he went to the emergency exit where the other two had left the building moments before, and pushed it open.

Or at least he tried. The handle went down without a problem but the door didn't budge. Damn it. The bastard had to have it blocked behind him to avoid being followed. In hindsight he should have seen it coming.

Mulling over it would do no good. He had to go back all the way to the main part of the building if he wanted to get out…the part of the building that was certainly a hell of flames by then.

Pulling up the shutters with his arm like that was not an option either. No, he'd have to risk it and go back from the other side. Taking a series of deep breaths he made his way toward the only exit available.

* * *

><p>Ryuji kicked the door open and slipped outside, never removing his sight from the vigilante. It didn't look like he planned to follow, but it was better to play it safe. When the door closed back he moved several trash containers in front of it and then blocked the wheels. No way the bastard would come after him from that way.<p>

Now all he had to do was get away from there and then plan his revenge against the masked brat and whoever it was that had sent him there.

Laughing to himself, he sprinted toward the end of the alley and to freedom.

"FREEZE!" a chorus of voices shouted as soon as he stepped outside. "Drop your weapon. NOW!"

"Fuck," was the only thing he muttered as he dropped the gun and raised his hands over his head. "Just… fuck!"

* * *

><p>After escorting the girls away from the facility where they had been kept, Rin called the police from a public phone explaining the situation in general terms and without identifying herself.<p>

A minor hypnosis on the girls and they would be unable to remember her face properly. The police would chalk it up to the shock and no one would connect her to this situation. At worst, rumors of Archer having a female partner would spread, but that wasn't something to be concerned about.

When she heard the sirens of the police getting closer she disappeared and took the long way back toward the warehouse.

Archer said that he would take care of Yukiko. However, while she trusted his words to a measure, there was still a chance that he could need her help. So, she decided to remain in the neighborhood, just in case.

What she didn't expect upon returning to that place was finding half the building ablaze.

The police had barely enough time to call the firefighters, and it would take a few minutes for them to arrive. In the meantime the fire would spread even further, and there was no trace of Archer anywhere.

For a moment she considered going back inside but her idea was soon crushed when a TV troupe arrived on the scene.

How had they found out about the situation so quickly? Had they followed the police or had someone tipped them off? Regardless of the reason, now she couldn't just put herself into the spotlight anymore. The word of a few officers could easily be buried, but there was no way her or anyone else could hide magic with cameras nearby. She was stuck.

Gritting her teeth in annoyance she muttered, "Archer, you'd better live up to your word."

She watched as even more police car and ambulance gathered, and several people were either arrested or hospitalized. The firefighters finally arrived and immediately began containing the flames. In the meantime the reporters kept chattering about the newly discovered prostitution ring and even a good number of curious civilians began pooling around the police line.

More arrests were made when two other guys slipped out from the side of the building but still there was no trace of the black clad hero.

A few more minutes passed and then it happened.

* * *

><p>Kazushi Misato, a forty-something year old report never thought that working in Fuyuki would be an interesting experience. When she was young(er) she thought that her skills as a reporter and her dedication to the job would have made her famous, but in spite of her efforts her career never really managed to take flight.<p>

It wasn't all that surprising, not while living in Fuyuki, and when her youth passed, so did her chances to be something more than a passing face on the evening news.

Even the tip she received from her friend within the police wasn't that incredible. Sure, a prostitution ring based in Fuyuki was a major discovery for the usually quite tow, but hardly something to make the national news.

However, all of that changed when HE stepped out of that door.

He came walking out, carrying the limp form of a girl in his arms. Even with his mask on he looked like someone who had just been through hell, and yet his back stood straight and proud.

His jacket was missing its left sleeve and the same arm was roughly bandaged with a black cloth. He had a katana almost as long as he was tall instead of a bow, but there was no mistaking the infamous Archer that was on everyone's lips recently

"My god. Zoom in on him. Zoom in on him," she whispered to her aid, a bearded man with the camera.

A paramedic rushed toward him with a stretcher and picked the girl from his arms, quickly moving her toward the closest ambulance.

He stood there for a moment, until a cop reached out for him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You've got to come with me, kid," she heard the man in uniform say.

"Sorry. I have to decline, sir," the masked boy answered weakly. No one expected what happened immediately after he uttered those words.

It all happened in a flash. One moment he was standing still with a hand on his shoulder, and a split second afterward he had freed himself and begun running toward the crowd.

He moved like a blur. Three officers tried to stop him, but he pivoted around them without losing his stride. He should have had a hard time passing through the gathered crowd that was now filming and taking shots with their phones.

Instead of that option, he went toward one of the police cars that were at the edge of the crime scene, jumped on the hood and used it like a platform to leap over the crowd, passing exactly above Misato and her troupe.

He didn't waste any time looking back, taking all the advantage he had over his would be pursers. He disappeared into the night long before the cops could manage to untangle themselves and their cars from the mass of stunned people.

"Tell me you got that," she said caught in awe.

"Every. Single. Moment," the cameraman replied with a grin.

Now,_ THAT,_ would definitely make the national news.

* * *

><p>The man called Sasaki Kojirou watched the vigilante disappear into the night. Good. It would do him no good if his last foe were captured so easily. Not while they had an agreement.<p>

It had been a humbling experience for the man who had devoted his life to his sword. He had been narrow sighted and forgot that there's more to a battle than the battle itself.

His opponent wasn't like him. He didn't seek battle for what he could gain out of it. All the time during their exchange, Archer wasn't looking at him, but beyond. That was the reason for his loss. His skills were superior and he had the advantage of a better-suited weapon. Yet he still lost.

'_Mindset'_

He had been bested through mindset alone.

He was a swordsman, a fighter. The battle in front of him was all he cared for. Archer, however, was different. The battlefield was a means to an end: important, but not necessary. He looked beyond his foe and grasped victory from the clutches of certain defeat.

Like a general would. Like a King would.

Potential, potential. So much potential.

The loss of his sword and the temporary incapacitation of his arms was a small price to pay for the discovery of such a diamond in the rough.

Since the day he picked up the name and the sword of the man he wanted to reach and surpass, this was the first time that defeat didn't have a bitter taste.

Actually, he was glad of having lost at that point. It would have been a shame to kill the boy when he could still grow so much.

Yes, that was something to look forward to: a worthy opponent, in skills and in sprit. He could wait for him to grow a little more before coming back to claim his life.

In the meantime, he had to take care of his wounds, find another suitable sword and grow a little stronger in the process.

With a smile, he turned around and disappeared in the streets of Fuyuki.

* * *

><p>Shirou managed to sneak in the narrow space between two buildings just a moment before a police car zoomed past him. That had been close, way to close for comfort. He had severely underestimated the situation and overestimated his own abilities. The constant switching between Reinforced and not Reinforced states drained him of his reserves faster than if he kept himself constantly accelerated.<p>

He would have to rethink his training routine if he managed to return home and after healing his wounds.

If he had been only a little less strong, a little less fast, a little less determined he wouldn't have managed to save Yukiko. Too close…it had been too close.

Yet… just this once… everyone had been saved. Right?

Leaning against the wall, Shirou closed his eyes for a moment to regain his strength before attempting to return home, and in that precise moment he heard someone step inside the street.

* * *

><p>Rin was more athletic than people gave her credit for, and she also happened to be more rested than Archer was. She followed him at a distance, not because she didn't want him to notice her, but because she didn't want to be associated with him if the police managed to catch him. It was selfish, but there was no way for her to help him if it happened. She would only end up in trouble with him.<p>

She watched him sneak between two buildings just a moment before a police car managed to catch a glimpse of him. She waited another moment and then went after him.

He was leaning against the wall, short on breath. His arm was wounded and a trail of blood was seeping from the bandages. He looked devastated and more than a little scared. Of what? Being caught? Being wounded?

No, somehow he didn't look scared for himself.

In that moment he noticed her presence and his eyes snapped open, his body tensed, though ready for fight or flight she couldn't tell. He blinked and then she recognized her. His body immediately relaxed-

"Ah, it's you Tohsaka-san. Are you all right? Are the girls safe."

"They are," she answered. "They are. Just like Yukiko."

"Good… good…"

"…. You kept your word," she said watching him slump on the ground.

"Yes… Yes I did… I… We saved everyone didn't we?"

"Yes. We saved everyone. Not bad for a night's work and an improvised partnership."

"No," he grunted and he pulled himself up. "Not bad at all."

"What are you going to do now?"

"Get home," he grunted walking past her, "get some sleep."

"Are you sure you're going to make it on your own?"

"Yeah. It's going to take some time but I'll make it. You should go back home too."

"Hm," she admitted. "I'll see you around then."

"Eventually," he agreed. "Good night, Tohsaka-san."

"Good night and thank you, Emiya-kun."

"Anytime, Tohsaka-san. Anytime."

He disappeared behind the corner, not even realizing what he had just let slip. She shook her head and sighed. That fool. It was way too easy to pry a secret out of him. She'd have to keep an eye on him, else he put himself in too much trouble for him to handle.

Somehow… it didn't feel like a chore at all.

* * *

><p><strong>Later that night<strong>

It took him the better part of an hour to change into his normal clothes and return home. Frankly, he didn't even remember the way he took to get back there.

He was positively exhausted. Too much to even think about what had happened.

Once home he drew a bath for himself, cleaned and changed the bandages with something appropriate. The entire time his mind was caught in a sort of numbness, partially due to the extended time he kept his brain reinforced.

Only after a quick meal his mind managed to recover a little lucidity. He laid out his futon, changed into his pajama and slipped under the covers. He would probably skip school the next day, but frankly he didn't care.

He had saved everyone, and that was all that mattered. Despite the soreness, the tiredness and the pain he felt elated like he never did before.

The girls would be fine and Tohsaka too would finally stop worrying about her friend. She had acted so detached earlier, but she was clearly happy.

Even if his back was turned to her when she thanked him he could picture her smile just by the sound of her voice.

He couldn't help but smile while he recalled her words.

'_Thank you, Emiya-kun.'_

His brain finally processed exactly what she said to him as he left and a single word escaped his mouth, still frozen in an idiotic looking smile.

"Fuck…."

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere else<strong>

Sitting behind a desk in a dimly lit room, the man picked up his phone and dialed the usual number.

"It's me," he said when the line connected. "Everything went without a hitch."

"_The journalists weren't planned,"_ the voice answered.

"Oh, that was my doing. I couldn't be seen on the scene in person after all, but I still needed someone to bring me some actual facts instead of the bullshit my colleagues would have tried to sell. Besides, I really want to see what he's going to do now that he no longer has the advantage of being considered a myth."

"_You seem rather taken with this Archer."_

"How could I not? He's the most exciting thing that ever happened in this shithole of a city. I really look forward to messing around with him."

"_Do as you please, but try not to get caught in your own games. I would rather not have to look for another semi-competent helper."_

"Your concern is touching," he chuckled. "What about your girl anyway? Are you still going to get her?"

"_Of course. Setting each pawn in the proper place was the trickiest part. All that's left now is to capture the Queen."_

"Suit yourself. I leave you to your machinations. My job is done. I'll be expecting the other half of the payment soon."

"_As per our agreement,"_ the voice confirmed, before cutting the conversation.

The man put away his phone and stood, just a moment before the door to the room was pushed open, flooding the place with light.

"What the hell are you doing in here with the lights turned off?"

"Ah, sorry. Sorry, senpai," he said scratching his head. "I had to make a personal call, you know?"

"Whatever. Get your stuff and let's head out. Kazama Yukiko regained consciousness and I want to ask her what she knows about Archer."

"Sure. I'll meet you in the parking lot in a minute."

"Make me wait even a second and you'll be writing all the reports for the next two weeks."

"Eeeeh? No way," He scurried out of the room in a hurry. "Geez, you are too harsh sometimes, Dojima-senpai."

"Quit your yapping and get moving, Adachi!"

Not wanting to spend the next few weeks doing paperwork, Adachi made a run for his desk. Sometimes having Dojima for a boss sucked, but hey, fresh information on his new favorite past time was totally worth it.

Stifling a chuckle he gathered his stuff and followed after his senior. Just another day on the job.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN (some explanations and maybe some spoilers – read at your own risk):<p>

I had mixed opinions about this part of the story. I'm probably going to have mixed responses as well. I know that Sasaki Kojirou was considered a fictional character in the Navuverse, however according to Type-Moon wiki his existence was merely _'dubious'_ and not outright fake.

A person who left enough of an impression to generate a Wraith like False Assassin surely was more than just a legend. Therefore I thought it shouldn't be odd that such a character would inspire someone to restore is sword style and carry his name.

From there I came up with the idea of the Fake False Assassin.

That being said, this Sasaki Kojirou is nowhere in the league of Servant that goes by the same name. He believes to be nearly as the same level of the _real_ Sasaki, but he's mistaken.

Anyway, his role is fulfilled for the time being. His presence served many purposes in Shirou development. Three, to be precise. I will not dwell much on the first two, but the third was obviously to deliver Shirou his Monohoshi-zao.

Frankly speaking, I can't think of another sword that Shirou could find before the HGW that could initiate him to his real talent. Monohoshi-zao is a normal, if not common, sword in itself, yet it carries a treasure that Shirou alone can fully access.

It's going to take him a while to understand the implication of having come to possess such a blade, but everything as to start from somewhere.

Well, that's it for the time being. Thanks for reading. Bye.


	12. Capture the Queen

**Chapter 11 – Capture the Queen**

(Published: 08.23.12 – Beta: RavingScholar)

* * *

><p>Exhaustion was probably the only reason Shirou managed to sleep at all the previous night. There was something sleep-depriving in knowing that someone was aware of his double identity.<p>

Especially if said someone was the person you were trying hid your _triple identity_ from.

In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. Lately, due to the circumstances brought forth by Kazama's disappearance, he and Tohsaka had spent a lot of time together. The girl was smart and attentive, and he had left around enough hints to make a few educated guesses. Nothing conclusive, but enough to spark the suspicion.

She had then taken advantage of his tired state to pry the confirmation out of him in an almost casual manner.

He made a mental note to eat more. Reinforcement amplified his body's abilities, but it still ran on the same nutrients as it did normally, only at a much-accelerated rate.

He'd have to start carrying around a few chocolate bars to prevent such things from repeating. Apparently being an ally of justice had more complications than just facing the bad guys, none of them nearly as cool as anime and manga made them out to be.

In any case, he had a nasty situation to face. He couldn't quite see Tohsaka running to the police with her newfound knowledge: not just due to her involvement in the incident last night, but because he was sure she didn't want anyone to snoop too much around her private life as much as he did.

And also because Shirou honestly thought that the resident _Second Owner_ was a better person than that.

Or at least he seriously hoped she was.

Breakfast was a quiet event, relatively speaking. Thanks to Taiga's excitement over Kazama being found, he managed to hide the stiffness in his arm. The wound was healing but he still had a hard time using his limb.

He ate three times his usual share, forcing Sakura to prepare more food. He apologized and made up some excuse about skipping dinner the previous evening. With his stomach full, he was ready to face school.

Or not.

Seriously, what the hell?

The school was in an uproar. News of Yukiko's rescue had already reached her schoolmates, but her safety wasn't the reason for the turmoil. It was the front page of all newspapers.

**The ARCHER strikes!**

The title, written in bold characters, opened up a detailed article of the previous night events, told from the perspective of the rescued girls and a few initial declarations from the police.

The words occupied only a minor part of the page, as most of the space was filled with pictures of Shirou's masked self. The first and the biggest pictured him holding Yukiko with the building burning behind him, while a few other shots showed him as he made his escape from the scene.

It looked rather cool, Shirou had to admit…but more importantly it was a borderline disaster.

Being caught on tape wasn't something acceptable by any stretch of the imagination. He was grateful that his Thaumaturgy wasn't particularly showy, or the hammer of the Clock Tower would have already fallen on the city. Fuyuki would have been reduced to a smoldering crater, and the newspapers would have reported something about a sudden a typhoon of epic proportions, or an unpredictable meteor impact that leveled the town leaving no survivors, and more importantly, no witnesses.

Even putting that near miss aside, he had just lost a serious advantage. Sure, people knew about him even before this debacle, but his existence was more of a myth than anything else. Criminals didn't expect him, didn't plan against him, didn't look out for him and that gave him the upper hand nearly every time.

Things had just gotten a lot more complicated for him, in more ways than one.

Who would have thought that the hard part of being a hero wasn't the helping people part, but remaining in the game long enough to actually provide that help?

Seriously, life was turning out to be full of surprises…and very few of the pleasant kind.

All in all, Shirou thought that there was no way in the world to calm down the mass of excited students and have a normal day of school.

… But then Kuzuki Soichirou walked in, and the class went silent without a single word from the teacher. He didn't even glare at them. His presence alone was enough to hush every noise.

After knowing him for a while, Shirou wanted to acquire that skill more than he wanted his martial arts. That _'mess with me and die'_sort of presence was definitely something a hero of justice could put to some use.

Thanks to him, lessons proceeded as usual but Shirou had other things on his mind than schoolwork.

* * *

><p>Lunch break.<p>

The buzz over the previous night events returned in full force as students went about their business. It had to be expected, of course. Fuyuki city was usually a quiet place, as far as the average citizen knew. The things that Kotomine and Tohsaka had to deal with in their capacity as magic users never reached the ears of common people.

This was one of the few things she had neither reason nor way to conceal, and the official confirmation of Archer's existence, with pictures, made the news more than the recently discovered crime ring based in town.

It showed just what people's priorities were, at least as far as her age group was concerned. What a bunch of monkeys. How was she supposed to relate to any of these people? They didn't have half this interest in Yukiko's disappearance, and they didn't care about her return either.

The only people who showed an inkling of concern were her and the group who had helped her to look for Yuki.

Ryuudo approached her first thing that morning asking of Yukiko's health. He was genuinely relieved that she hadn't suffered any abuse. That guy didn't seem to like her for some reason, but it didn't stop him from offering his help in a manner that went beyond his duties as the students' representative.

She saw Sakura on the way to school and she the purple haired girl nodded at her with a genuine _'I'm happy for you'_smile. Rin had to restrain herself from walking over there and hugging the younger girl for many different reasons.

Finally, the person who had played the biggest part in the rescue operation: Emiya Shirou, the restless boy with steel hidden behind gentle eyes. What was his story? How did he get to do the things he did?

She could understand his reasons to a degree, but not the amount of effort he put behind his actions. There was an obvious amount of skill in the things he did that spoke of heavy physical conditioning and hours of training.

He wanted no acknowledgement, no recognition and had nothing to gain or lose as far as she could tell. Could a person such as that even exist? Was he truly selfless or were there motives she wasn't privy to that made him go through all of that effort?

Did it even matter in the face of what he did? Without his intervention she would have never found Yukiko nor would have the police. That much was clear beyond doubt, and for that she owed him a certain amount of gratitude.

She wasn't one for having debts, though. Not for long anyway. She had, however, something to pay him back with, although even she had to admit it was a rather underhanded move.

They had no spoken agreement about meeting that day. They didn't even see each other in the corridors as it happened sometimes. It was all guesswork, but if she were him, she'd want to talk about the situation.

She made her way to the rooftop, the best place to talk without being overheard and where eventual eavesdroppers would be spotted immediately. She was sure to find him there.

She wasn't disappointed, nor was he surprised to see her arrive.

"Yo, Tohsaka-san," he greeted cheerfully. There was no hint in his voice, his posture or that he felt scared or that he was about to grovel at her feet, begging her not to reveal his secret.

She didn't know if should feel flattered or offended that he didn't consider her a threat. Well, considering that he had a reputation for thinking the best of people until they punched him in the face (and sometimes even afterwards according to Shinji), neither of those options was reasonable.

Emiya Shirou was simply that kind of idiot.

"Hi, Emiya-kun. How's your arm?" she asked without dancing around the subject.

"Better than yesterday," he admitted. "I have to skip archery practice for a while though."

"Tsk, this is so disappointing," Tohsaka huffed. "You aren't even trying to deny it."

"Sorry about that," he chuckled, "but I figured that since you are smart enough to figure it out by yourself, and with my slip yesterday there isn't much point of lying. How did you find out, by the way?"

"You are one of the orphans of the great conflagration nine years ago, right?" she asked and he nodded. "The thing you said to me in the alley, the second time we met. The reason for which you fight."

"The thing I… Oh. I knew should have kept my mouth shut."

"Yes, you should have," she confirmed reprovingly. "Of course it was just a suspicion, but your character fit the description. You then all but confirmed it to me last night, first by calling me by my name, which I never told Archer, and finally with that last slip of the tongue."

Shirou grumbled as he buried his face in one hand.

"That was pretty sneaky, by the way, taking advantage of my exhaustion like that."

She smiled, lifting a finger as if to highlight her words. "Well, Emiya-kun, the secret to being successful is to grab an opportunity when it's offered."

"I can't deny that it worked," he admitted begrudgingly. "How's Kazama-san, by the way?"

"She's fine. I called her parents this morning and there was nothing wrong with her. She doesn't remember much. They kept her under sedative almost the entire time. In hindsight she was lucky compared to the other girls. They didn't touch her or anything, and she slept most of the time. Frankly, the entire ordeal was worse for her parents than it was for her."

"I can see that happening," he nodded. "She's coming back to school soon?"

"In a couple of days. The doctors wanted to keep her under observation a little longer, but she insisted on returning to her normal life as soon as possible. Her parents wanted to leave town for a while, to escape the media circus and because the police still doesn't know who commissioned her abduction."

"Wait. What do you mean _'commissioned'_? You mean she wasn't just picked at random?"

"No," she shook her head. "This is strictly confidential, and I know it only because her family told me, but it seems that somebody wanted her specifically, and contacted that organization to kidnap her. Their boss says he doesn't know who did the commissioning, only that he was willing to pay a high price to have her. The police is looking into every direction, but considering that her family runs a less than cheap Ryokan, there's plenty of wealthy people who could have laid their eyes on her."

"So it's not over," he mumbled. She could almost see the gears turning in his head as he contemplated the implications of that news.

"Well, I don' t think that whomever was behind it would try it again anytime soon. Not with the hornet's nest you stirred."

"Me? What does my involvement have to do with anything beside the rescue?"

"Are you seriously that dumb? The prostitution ring is big news for Fuyuki that's certain, but it wouldn't have reached national levels if it weren't for your presence. You have been promoted to a celebrity and the media is all over you and your activities. The effort the police is putting into this case is ten times what it would have been otherwise. No one would be fool enough to try again now that the eye of the entire nation is on Fuyuki."

"That's good, all things considered. I should lay low as well," he said pensively.

"It would be better," she agreed. "I saw vans from several different networks on my way to school. I'm going to bet that as soon as Yukiko returns, they will be all over the place."

"Tch! Maybe I should pretend to be sick for a while."

"Yes, because the captain of the archery club being sick when Archer is known to be wounded is not going to raise any suspicion," she remarked sarcastically. "You'd better take some painkillers and act like nothing happened. A change in behavior now wouldn't pass unnoticed."

"Yes, you're right, of course. Thanks for the heads up. I'd better return to class right now. Lunch break is almost over."

"Wait. Are you kidding me?" she asked a little upset.

"What? Why?"

"I know your secret identity and you aren't going to do anything about it?"

"What am I supposed to do?" he shrugged. "I thought about it all morning but I couldn't come up with anything. I can't make you forget what you know, I have nothing to offer for your silence, and I will certainly not threaten you to keep your mouth shut. What you're going to do with my secret is entirely up to you at this point, Tohsaka-san."

Insufferable idiot. "Aren't you worried even a little?"

He looked at her for a moment, as if pondering that question for the first time.

"To be honest, no I'm not. I was a little freaked out that someone knew of my secret identity, I'll give you that. I mean, I spent a lot of effort to keep it, you know, secret. But then I thought: Hey, it's Tohsaka. How bad could that be? "

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, eyebrow twitching. Curse the Root, if he was underestimating her, he would regret it.

"That I trust you?" he asked, not getting the reason for her sudden change of mood.

"You- you trust me?" she was taken aback. "Are you- are you completely stupid? We never even exchanged words before a week ago, and you say that you trust me with _this_?"

"Sure. Why shouldn't I? Granted, I might not know much about you personally, but I watched you working restlessly to find your friend, losing sleep over her well-being. And…"

"And?"

"You trusted me with her safety last night. Even though you've been looking for her for days, you trusted me enough to take care of her in your place. Frankly speaking, that's bigger than any secret I have. The least I can do now is to return the favor."

Rin's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. The cycle repeated a few time as she grasped for words. They didn't come.

He worked, sweated, fought and bled for people he barely even knew, and he was the one feeling indebted? Just where the hell did he get his perspective from?

To make matters worse, he just turned the table on her without even trying. He didn't play the _'You owe me, so keep your mouth shut'_card, which she was ready to receive and accept. What kind of scale of values did he have? To her, a Magus, debts were something extremely serious that should be repaid as soon as possible, but him…

But the fact remained that he was right, in his odd, twisted reasoning. At one point she entrusted him with something precious and he lived up to that trust. And now it was her holding the safety of something he valued in her hand.

Would she just _fail_ in keeping up with him? Her pride wouldn't permit it.

How disappointing. She had wanted to make him squirm a little before letting him off the hook.

Finally she sighed and her shoulders slumped, not so much in defeat as in resignation. How was she supposed to find something to counterbalance the sheer idiocy of this boy?

"You know, Emiya-kun, most people wouldn't be so trustful. Eventually you're going to regret it."

"I'll take my chances," he shrugged. "So, have you had lunch already?"

"Are you asking me to have lunch with you?" She smirked. "How bold of you. Don't tell me this was your plan all along," she ignored his sputtering and grabbed his arms with hers. "But I think I can indulge you. Just this once."

She promptly dragged him downstairs to fetch her lunch, for once not caring at all about their rumor mongering schoolmates.

* * *

><p>With a sigh Dojima closed the hospital door behind him. Another hole in the water. The Kazama girl hadn't seen nor heard a thing. In fact, despite being the person who led Archer to uncover the criminal organization, she was the least informed of all the witnesses.<p>

She could have been lying about not knowing a thing about the vigilante, but the look of sheer surprise in her eyes when he told her who rescued her convinced him of her truthfulness. Yet, he couldn't discard her involvement altogether. According to the preliminary investigations she was the first girl to be kidnapped from Fuyuki. Therefore, it shouldn't be surprising that until then, Archer took no interest in the disappearances happening all over Japan.

Then again, Kazama was hardly the only underage girl disappearing all of a sudden. Certainly most cases turned out to be voluntary runaways, often returning home on their own a few days later. Archer took no interest in them, but not a week after this girl disappeared he had already gathered enough information to find a serious trail.

Either that meant Archer had an information network so impressive that he could discern kidnappings from runaways, or he had at least an indirect connection with this girl. Considering that he had to resort to his help to put the last pieces together and pinpoint the location, the former didn't seem likely. Which meant that someone in Kazama's circle of friends had at least a way to reach the teenage vigilante.

He'd have to start looking into her acquaintances, starting for her school, which happened to be Homurahara Gakuen.

… Wait, Homurahara Gakuen?

_" Why are you looking for Archer? Is what he's doing wrong?"_

_[…]_

"_Sorry kid. I'm afraid that justice and law don't go hand in hand."_

_[…]_

"_I'm sorry for troubling you. But I'm not sorry for what I'm doing. There are times when the law isn't enough to protect the innocent."_

Well, well, well. How many chance were there that it was just a coincidence? Emiya Shirou was one of his prime suspects, and now he suddenly jumped at the top of his list. A mere coincidence? Possible, but unlikely. Maybe keeping a discreet eye on the boy would work better that overtly stick his nose too close. If the boy actually were Archer, seeing him snooping around would only cause him to be more attentive.

It looked like he was up for a few nights of watch.

* * *

><p>Adachi wasn't the dimwit everyone thought he was. Even if he didn't consider himself a great detective he had more than a few aces up his sleeve. His reputation was one of such aces.<p>

Being considered harmless and somewhat of an idiot meant that people hardly considered him a threat. They were relaxed around him, not even trying to conceal what they were thinking because even if he figured something out, hey, it's Adachi; how bad could that be?

If only they knew what his apparently unassuming little brain could come up with.

Even his tendency to blurt details about the case he was following to random passerby had a purpose.

Blabbermouth, they called him. Fools, the lot of them.

Knowledge is power not only when you have it, but also when you release it. Letting something or another be known would cause someone to react in a certain manner.

Action. Reaction. Push this and that moves. Pull that and this follows.

It was just a matter of knowing which button caused the right effect.

"Ne, Senpai," he addressed his senior as they left Kazama's room. "That wasn't really helpful. At this rate we aren't going to find Archer anytime soon."

"Hm," Dojima agreed pensively.

Well, that was unexpected. Dojima wasn't one for half-assed answers. In fact, he was likely to cuff him in the back of his head for being needlessly negative about the case's lack of development.

So, wild guess: he knew something and was too absorbed in his musing to pay him any mind. It also had to be something he didn't feel like sharing with him, either because of his reputation of being less than tight-lipped, or because he had no actual proof yet

Admittedly, there were downsides to be considered a blabbermouth, unless you knew how to turn even those in advantages. When people wanted to keep things under wrap they made a point of shutting up when he was around. Normally that would be a hindrance to anyone, but not to Adachi. To him that only served to highlight the things he needed to look into when no one was looking at him.

It was predictable to the point of boredom.

Still, that meant he had to keep a close eye on his Senpai in the coming days. He didn't want to miss out on the action, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Two days later<strong>

The media circus continued. The journalists were thriving on Archer like a pack of wolves over a juicy piece of raw meat.

They assaulted the school looking for information about the girl carried to safety in the hero's arms. They were quickly driven away by a fearsome tiger, but outside of the school gates there wasn't much to hold them back.

The students of Homurahara Gakuen found cameras and microphones stuffed in their faces more than a few times a day. Of course, none of them had any actual information to share, besides more gossip, most of which unfounded.

That only served to spur new rumors that didn't have any real foundation. That was good, though. Some diversion, free of charge, was really useful at that point in time. Shirou's wound was healed in less than a day, mostly because he diverted the entirety of his magical reserves toward accelerating the process. He only had to skip archery practice once, and with him being notoriously busy no one paid it any mind.

Just when the entire charade was beginning to wind down Yukiko returned to school. Immediately, the poor girl was almost literally assaulted by almost every other student, few of which interested in her well-being. The most popular rumor going around was that she was secretly Archer's lover.

Only the presence of her closest friends, led by none other than Tohsaka Rin, saved her from being swarmed with questions.

It took two more days for the entire thing to finally become secondary in the grand scheme of things (aka: adolescent life), and for life to move on.

As he was leaving school after archery practice, Shirou found somebody unexpected waiting for him.

"Emiya-kun? Over here." Tohsaka called from beyond the school gates. Kazama was standing beside her, schoolbag in hands.

"Good evening, Tohsaka-san, Kazama-san," he greeted. "Are you leaving the school this late? I didn't know either of you had club activities."

"We don't," Tohsaka admitted. "But it's easier to avoid the reporters if they think we managed to leave the school grounds unnoticed."

"Ah, that makes sense. I'm sorry for you Kazama-san. After all you went through you really didn't need all this mess."

"No, you don't have to worry. It's nothing I can't handle with a little help," she dismissed in a soft tone of voice, waving her hands in front of her face. She looked down, blushing. "Besides you've done more than enough already. Rin told me how you helped her."

"She did?" he asked glancing at said girl who stood at the side smirking.

"Of course I did, Emiya-kun. I told her eve-ry-thing," she said teasingly.

"You did?" he almost squawked.

"Yes," Yukiko confirmed. "She told me you volunteered to look for me every night. I don't know how to thank you."

"Oh, that's what she told you," he breathed in relief but shot a glare at Tohsaka, who was hiding her amused smile behind her hand. "A- anyway, you don't have to thank me. It's not as if it actually helped in the end."

"Still, besides my family and close friends you were the only person to believe I didn't run away from home and did something to look for me."

"You're giving me too much credit, Kazama-san. I just did what I thought was right. Really, it was nothing."

"See? That's exactly what I told you he would say," Tohsaka said.

"Anyway, Emiya-kun," Kazama continued, "I wanted to treat you and Rin to dinner, to repay you for your efforts, at least."

"Uh, I appreciate it, but you don't really have to."

"I insist," he persisted, "I won't feel good about myself if I just ignored this."

"You're not going to convince her, Emiya-kun. You wouldn't know it by looking at her, but she can be quite stubborn when it comes to certain things."

"Please, Emiya-kun?" Kazama insisted.

"Ah… Uh… Well, all right."

"Wonderful," she exclaimed. "There's a nice place that I know of in town. Shall we go?"

"Actually there were two more people who helped out," Shirou pointed out. "Shouldn't we invite them along?"

"I asked them both already," Tohsaka explained. "Both Ryuudo-kun and Matou-san thanked but refused the offer. They said that they didn't do much and they only came along because of you in the first place. To be honest, I think they just felt uncomfortable and decided to dump everything on you."

"Great," he said sourly. "Well, I suppose there's no reason to sulk over it."

"Well said, Emiya-kun," Kazama said. "Let us go, then. I can't wait to show you the place."

They made their way toward the city, engaging in a simple and pleasant conversation. They didn't notice the person looking at them several meters behind.

* * *

><p>Dojima watched the adolescent trio getting further away. Following them now would only make things difficult. He had at least confirmed that the Emiya boy and the Kazama girl were at least acquainted with each other. From what he could gleam of their conversation they weren't exactly close, but it was apparent that Emiya had invested his time in looking for the recently rescued girl regardless of the fact that he actually was Archer or not. That was an important piece of knowledge.<p>

For now he would play it safe and keep any eye over Emiya's house and all the other places he usually hang around. If the kid actually were the vigilante he would find out at one point or another.

With that in mind he turned and went for his car.

* * *

><p>The restaurant turned out to be a rather simple, family owned place. The cuisine was good enough, but Shirou was sure that he could make those dishes better any day of the week.<p>

The conversation steered away from the recent events that involved Yukiko (as she insisted that he call her) and settled on more common topics. Of course every once in a while the girls went into their own hushed conversation that involved a lot of giggling – for Tohsaka's standards – and glances thrown sideways at him followed by more giggling.

For his part Shirou, who knew better than to ask what they were talking about, was initially too busy comparing his culinary skill level to a professional's. That changed slowly as the various dishes were served.

There was something odd about the place. It was quite crowded but there was very little noise. It was like the other patrons weren't really into their food or their conversations, and he was sure that several people shot strange glances in their direction.

Damn, could it be that there were still journalist following Yukiko? That wasn't good. By no stretch of the imagination was being publicly associated with her at that point in time a positive thing.

Anyway, pulling back now would only make him look all the more suspicious. Ultimately, he could only enjoy the evening, but keeping his eyes and ears wide open was a necessity at that point.

In spite of that, dinner was a pleasant business and by the time it ended Shirou was a lot more relaxed. At no time during the evening did something strange happen, leaving Shirou with the thought of just being paranoid.

Finally they walked home together until they reached the intersection where Shirou had to leave the girls by themselves. It was only at that point that he realized it.

"Wait. Yukiko-san, don't you live on the other side of town?"

"And you noticed that just now?" Tohsaka asked. "Emiya-kun you sure are slow. Yukiko is staying at my place for a few nights, at least until the whole mess blows over. She can't even leave for school in the morning with all the reporters at her place."

"That sucks. Anyway, do you want me walk you home?"

"Now, now, Emiya," she chided. "There's no need to be all protective of us. We can defend ourselves and this is a quiet neighborhood."

"Yeah," he confirmed recalling the punches he stopped when they fought. Definitely no amateurish stuff. "You can do that all right."

"What's that supposed to mean, Emiya?"

"That you pack a mean punch, Tohsaka."

"Feh," she huffed, crossing her arms on her chest. "Look who's talking."

"What?" Yukiko asked in amusement. "What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing," they replied as one, causing Yukiko to laugh.

"Honestly you two. You really are good friends. At least some of this mess had a positive outcome."

"I guess," Rin conceded. "Anyway, we'd better go. It's a school day tomorrow. See you, Emiya."

"Good night, Emiya-kun. Thank you for everything."

"Think nothing of it. Goodnight, both of you."

He remained there until they disappeared behind a corner. Then he turned and headed home.

* * *

><p>Rin reached her home alongside Yukiko in a comfortable silence. Although she wasn't one for social events, Rin found the evening extremely enjoyable, both because of Yukiko and because of Emiya. The boy was a surprisingly pleasant person to hang around with. He definitely was ahead of his peers in maturity, and unlike Issei, he didn't mind her company.<p>

She hardly ever spent any time with the opposite gender beyond school related activities, mostly because any boy her age had clear intentions with respect to her. Not that she blamed them for it, but in the long run she found it annoying.

Emiya and Ryuudo were exceptions to that, though the latter was on eggshells every time she was around. Maybe he was scared of women? The aftereffects of a priestly upbringing? Nah, he didn't seem to have the same problem with any other woman. It was just her that unsettled him. Funny guy.

Emiya, on the other hand, had no such problems. Sure, he had an entirely different can of worms to his name, but hey, it wasn't like she didn't have any secrets of her own. At the very least, she had something in common with him and he could relate to her, even if he didn't know it. Perhaps in the future she could allow him to know a little more about her secrets, since she already knew his? Of course, that would require getting a little more intimate with each other, but…

No, no. What was she thinking? Bad Rin. Bad. She usually wasn't like that but she was feeling strangely lightheaded that night. In fact she was feeling rather drowsy, almost as if she were drunk.

She leaned against a wall for support. Why was the world was spinning around her?

"Yu-Yukiko… I'm not feeling well right now. Would you… would you give me a hand walking to the bed?"

She received no answer and the world became a little more blurred. She fell to her knees breathing heavily, doing her best to remain conscious. In the end she couldn't hold herself up anymore and slumped with her back against the wall.

As the world began to go completely black, the last thing she saw in front of her were Yukiko's glazed eyes staring emotionlessly down at her.

* * *

><p>She picked up her phone and dialed a number.<p>

"It's done, Master. The sedative has taken effect. She is completely out of it and will remain like that for ten hours at least."

"_The recovery team is already coming your way,"_ the voice on the other side answered. _"Take the girl and return to me at once."_

"Yes, Master. I'll be back at your side as soon as I can. I missed you so much this past week, my love."

"_So did I, pet,"_ the voice laughed coldly. _"So did I."_

* * *

><p>In the quiet evening Shirou fell to his knees.<p>

His head throbbed, and breathing was almost as difficult as thinking straight.

Something was wrong with his body: very, very wrong.

He fought the growing sense of nausea with everything he had and mustered enough focus to pull the trigger of the imaginary gun pointed at his head.

A single circuit connected, to allow the passage of Prana, both out of weakness and as a precautionary measure. It was more than enough for Shirou to employ the most basic of his abilities: Structural Grasping.

He scanned his body for whatever it was that was trying to weaken him. The natural healing factor provided by Avalon automatically excluded all natural causes, and it was also the only reason he hadn't passed out in the empty corridor of his house.

Searching for foreign substances in his bloodstream he found confirmation of his suspicions.

While not an outright expert, Shirou had learned from Kiritsugu about several sedatives and harmful substances that could be used to incapacitate a person with varying degrees of efficiency.

The concoction in his body was unknown to him, but he recognized some of its components.

It was a slow acting sedative, designed to put the target in a deep slumber. It had no harmful after-effects and would simply be absorbed by the victim's body in the span of a few hours.

If he hadn't stayed up a good half an hour to perform his usual exercises he would have simply overslept without knowing the reason. And speaking of reasons, how had the sedative ended up in his blood to begin with?

Injection wasn't a possibility, as the amount required for the substance to be effective couldn't be administered subtly.

Inhalation was also out of the question. Anything that passed through the nose would have affected the brain with exceeding speed.

Ingestion was the only likely scenario, and considering that he had prepared all of his meals himself with the exception of dinner, that meant that he must have consumed the sedative at the restaurant.

It didn't make any sense. Why would anyone do that to him? Emiya Shirou had no enemies to speak of, and to the best of his knowledge only two people knew who Archer really was: Tohsaka Rin and Kuzuki Soichirou. Well, the latter had probably connected the dots on his own by now.

It could have been one of Kiritsugu's many enemies. Shirou's father made a point of letting the world believe he had died in the war in order to shield is son from the downfall of his actions. That didn't mean it was impossible for someone to have found out about his whereabouts and decided to take revenge on the last living Emiya. Magi knew how to hold a grudge like no other.

But that didn't fit the present situation. Magi were an arrogant bunch according to Kiritsugu, and anyone who managed to track and affect them would openly gloat about it. In addition to that, they would have dealt the final blow before he had the chance to retire beyond his wards, where any Magus was at its strongest.

It just didn't add up. Any scenario he went through in his altered state of mind had something missing…as long as he painted himself as the main target of this underhanded attack.

But what if he wasn't? What if he was just a casualty of an attack directed to someone else?

He wasn't the only one eating at that restaurant after all.

"Shit…" he muttered weakly as he connected the dots in a picture that finally made sense. This wasn't about him. He wasn't the target to begin with. "Yukiko…"

He had to get up and warn Tohsaka. No, that wasn't good. As far as he knew she didn't have any passive healing factor like he had. In all likelihood both girls were now completely passed out. Completely… defenseless…

A surge of bile rose in his throat, accompanied by a sense of rage so intense that Shirou clenched his mouth tight enough to draw blood.

Someone was attacking two defenseless girls. Someone was attacking his friends.

In response to his emotions, twenty-six more circuits flared up so angrily that it was almost like a physical pain.

That was good. Pain was exactly what he needed in that moment to aid the now completely flooded Avalon in its task of getting rid of the sedative. That wasn't the time to laze on his back.

He stood on shaky legs and made his way toward his workshop to retrieve his gear.

* * *

><p><strong>Outside of the Emiya Household<strong>

Dojima waited inside his car for any sign of strange activities.

The Emiya boy, who lived by himself in the huge Japanese styled mansion, had just returned home from his evening out with his friends.

Nothing remarkable had happened since that moment, and if not for the lights he could see from behind the walls, he would have thought the boy had gone to bed. It was probably going to be a fruitless night of waiting but there wasn't much else he could do.

Well, to be honest he had other cases that waited for him, especially since the higher ups had decided to pull the plug on his investigation until the waters calmed down.

As if Dojima would accept such an order. A stickler for rules he was, a moron he was not. He had to follow the trail while it was hot, and he certainly couldn't wait for his superiors to get their heads out of their asses and realize that their job wasn't about making a good impression on the public.

Besides, he had Adachi for that stuff. That goof couldn't find his way out of a wet paper bag, but at least he would give the impression that his team was doing something unrelated to Archer.

Still, time passed and nothing happened. At one point the lights went off and Dojima thought the kid was going to sleep. He too was almost dozing off when several minutes later he was jerked to complete attention by the noise of a roaring engine. A noise that definitely came from inside the walls.

* * *

><p>Getting ready took less than five minutes.<p>

In spite of his efforts to clear his system of the offending substance, Shirou had yet to recover completely. He couldn't divert a single drop of Prana to fuel his usual skill set, and that put the option of jumping from roof to roof completely out of the question. He needed another way to get to Tohsaka's place and walking wasn't an option.

There was just another way at his disposal but it was anything but subtle.

'_Fuck it,'_ he thought as he retrieved his stuff. If subtle didn't cut it, then unsubtle would do the trick. On his way out of his Workshop he glanced at the blade resting vertically against the wall. It was almost as long as he was tall, and in spite of how many times he had seen it in the past days, Shirou couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about it.

It was probably a bad idea. It was too long for him to wield properly, and he had no real training with swords to begin with. But it wasn't a bad idea to have another weapon to rely upon in case of need, and its previous owner explicitly told him that it wasn't meant to just lay around.

His hand was wrapped around the scabbard even before his mind made a conscious decision. When he realized that he had taken it with him he was already out of the Workshop and into the shed. There was no time to go back and drop it, and frankly he couldn't indulge in figuring out what was wrong with him. It was probably the drug in his blood that made him feel even more confused than usual with regards to that sword.

He'd better focus on the situation at hand, namely his means of transportation

He didn't have a chance to test it yet, but he was confident in his own ability in the field. It was definitely safer than jumping around with sudden bursts of Reinforcement when his mind wasn't clear. He could very well misjudge a distance and end up splattered on the concrete, or else he could misjudge the amount of Prana and blow himself up.

He wasn't worried for himself, but if he died who would help Yukiko and Rin?

No, he definitely had to use more mundane ways to get there fast.

Strapping the katana to his side in a way that wouldn't bother him, he settled his legs on each side of the newly repaired bike and eyed the keys warily.

Time to nut up or shut up.

* * *

><p>In his car, Dojima pulled his seat up to a straight position. Out of instinct he turned on the engine but kept the headlights off, in preparation for whatever might happen.<p>

He didn't have to wait long. A moment later a motorbike roared out of the gates in complete disregard of every form of common sense, much less traffic rules. He only managed to catch a glimpse of the biker, but the expression of the black clad redhead would have frozen anyone who found himself on the receiving end of his stare.

Pure, unadulterated fury shone through the boy's golden eyes.

Dojima had no idea what was going on, except that his main suspect was speeding down the road like he had the hounds of hell chasing after him. Something was going on in Fuyuki at that very moment, and following the Emiya boy would lead him without a doubt into the eye of storm.

Without further ado he sped up and chased after the reckless teenager through the empty streets of the residential area.

* * *

><p>Shirou was glad that it was so late at night that the streets were almost entirely devoid of traffic. Endangering passerby with his crazy driving wasn't something he intended to do, especially considering that it was his first time riding a real motorbike, Taiga-broken scooter notwithstanding. He didn't even have a license, and if a police patrol stopped him… well, he probably just wouldn't stop. At least the bike he had no plates and as long as he didn't get himself arrested they shouldn't be able to identify him.<p>

But that wasn't the time to think about eventual consequences. He had to focus his slowly clearing mind on the road ahead, especially since he was about to burn the red light in front of him.

He barely managed to dodge the only car, go figure, which crossed the intersection at the same time as he did. He didn't turn back as the mad honking that followed in his wake told him that the drive was more than fine.

If he had looked back he might have realized that half that noise wasn't directed at him, but to the car that crossed the road in the same fashion.

Two minutes later he was almost in sight of the Tohsaka household when a black van sped down the road in the opposite direction.

'_That's not normal.'_Shirou realized after a moment. That kind of vehicle didn't belong in the residential area, and it was too late for a delivery of any sort.

Betting everything on his instincts, Shirou pulled a one hundred eighty degree turn that almost sent him flying. It was a wild bet, but going after the suspicious van seemed like the smart thing to do.

Hoping that he wouldn't regret his choice, he went after the black vehicle at a distance that wouldn't tip the driver off.

* * *

><p>A black van passed Dojima's car, and the detective managed to spare a thought for that oddity. He would not have pondered it any further if not for the fact that he saw his target pulling a maneuver with his bike that warranted an arrest out of sheer recklessness.<p>

'_So that's how it is,'_ he figured. Whatever the boy was after, it was probably riding in that van. Well, nothing else to do but to mimic the boy in his driving endeavors. Hopefully they'd both avoid stopping that crazy chase against a wall. The last thing Nanako needed was to lose her father in an accident when he was supposed to be off duty.

* * *

><p>The chase continued on the highway and well out of town. The buildings began to dwindle in favor of the trees of the woods that basically covered the land around the city. There were a number of villas hidden in the woods and only someone who knew exactly where to turn would find the road that lead to any of them.<p>

At one point the van turned to the right, down a road that anyone passing by too fast wouldn't notice. It wasn't signaled in any manner, except for a 'private property' sign that was visible only when he turned as well, which Shirou avoided doing until he was sure that the other driver wouldn't notice him.

The road wasn't paved, so he had to proceed slowly and with the lights off to avoid being spotted. He was fairly sure that he hadn't been detected, but as he proceeded further down the road a familiar feeling chilled the blood in his veins and forced him to stop his bike.

It was subtle, and any normal person wouldn't have noticed it, but fait prickling on his skin was unmistakable.

A Bounded Field. He had just passed through a damned Ward. This place belonged to a Magus, or at least there was one who was interested enough in the comings and goings to erect a permanent detection system. Things had just gotten a helluva lot more complicated, and his surprise factor just flew out of the window.

Now, how was he supposed to deal with this new development?

* * *

><p><strong>In a luxurious villa in the woods<strong>

She was silent, as usual. He didn't like to converse and especially not with her.

He detested her; that much was obvious. He couldn't accept that she was better than him. She was a woman, an inherently inferior being in his opinion. That she surpassed his crafts and his potential by several hundred times annoyed him to no end, and he made no secret of it.

She was bound to his service, and he made a point of reminding her every time she was in his presence, so she avoided him as much as she could.

Escaping wasn't an option. Even though she had the means to break the contract, doing so would definitely kill her. She wasn't strong enough to rebel. He made sure of it.

However, in his gender based arrogance he underestimated her and her abilities. Day after day she accumulated a little more strength, just enough that he wouldn't notice the difference in her power. She just had to be patient and wait until she had enough energy to sustain herself.

Until that time she'd keep indulging his delusions of superiority until she could afford to use her blade to cut his throat and the chain that bound her in one fell swoop.

At least that was the original plan. Of all the things he could come up with, there was only one she couldn't ignore. Or forgive.

She wasn't above using others for her goals. Frankly, she encouraged it. She had no love for strangers. She had no love at all. But that…

That was too much. That was a slap in her face. He knew who she was and he had gone on with that plan anyway. Worse, he had the gall to involve her in it.

Pathetic little man. He looked down on women, yet he bet the future of his entire craft on one of them.

No more. As soon as he lowered his guard she would gut him and be done with it. She didn't want to die, but it was a preferable option to the alternative. Besides, even if he died there was still a chance for her to make it. She'd just have to find a proper place and….

Her line of thought was interrupted when the door opened and the hateful man walked in.

In contrast to his wicked soul, he dressed in white pristine clothes decorated with fine silver lines. He was handsome, she had to admit, but it didn't remotely make up for the rotting heart beating in his chest.

"There you are," he sneered. "The girl's coming. Finish the preparations for the ritual at once. It want her well broken and remissive for the following treatment."

"Of course," she replied evenly. "I shall see to it immediately."

"You'd better. I want everything to be in working conditions before she wakes up. An unconscious mind is easier to meld. See that you don't disappoint me, Caster."

He left, closing the door behind him. Even when he turned his back on her, he didn't drop his guard for a moment. It would be difficult to get him close enough to kill him before he had a chance to stop her.

That's what she was thinking when she felt her wards spike, signaling the presence of an intruder. Well, well, well. It looked like someone was coming to throw a wrench into his plans. Perhaps she could turn this to her advantage? It remained to be seen who and how capable the intruder actually was, but if she played her cards right she could get out of there without breaking a sweat.

Grinning wickedly under her hood, she returned to her work. A few modifications were needed if she wanted to exploit the situation. Her Master was about to receive a terrific surprise.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry for the long wait. Life sucks. If you want to discuss this chapter PM or review it (which is better). See ya.<p> 


	13. Rule of Blood

**Chapter 12 – Rule of Blood**

(Published: 08.30.12 – Beta RavingScholar)

* * *

><p>Sometimes being a cop was difficult, Dojima pondered. Actually, make that most of the time. All it took for him to be stopped was a sign delineating a private propriety, and he could proceed no further.<p>

Sometimes he hated his job. Without a legal reason he couldn't trespass on private land, no matter what his suspicions were. The Emiya boy didn't seem to care about such things, but he had no proof that he went inside uninvited. Forcing his way in now was a bet he couldn't afford to take, not when he didn't know what was actually happening.

The best he could do was wait for something to happen; something loud and visible enough for him to see from the main road.

It was unnerving, but he had no choice. As a police officer, and the only one who realized the fishy events of Fuyuki, he couldn't afford to be suspended from service or even fired. No, for the sake of everyone he had to be careful.

For good measure he checked his gun. Fully loaded and with the safety in place. He removed his coat and threw it on the back seat, remaining only in his white shirt and black tie, the gun holster clearly visible under his arm.

He quietly lit a cigarette and sat back against the seat, hoping that he wouldn't have to wait long for something to happen.

* * *

><p>Shirou put on his mask and hid the motorbike behind one of the many trees that lined the path. In the off chance that his tripping of the wards had gone unnoticed, going in quietly was the best option. Considering his track record so far, he didn't dare to assume himself so lucky as to have slipped past the security.<p>

Moving through the trees he finally reached a considerably high wall slightly overrun by vines. Instead of jumping over the wall by reinforcing his legs he climbed the closest tree and surveyed the situation safely hidden among the leaves.

The western style mansion was a considerably big building with three floors above the ground. Considering the architecture, it was safe to assume that it had at least a cellar underground. If the Magus had a Workshop it was probably located there.

Now, the matter was finding out where the girls were kept. If Tohsaka had been just a normal person he would have considered checking there first, but no Magus would bring another into its sancta sanctorum, under any circumstances. It was also the most defended place of the entire structure. He wouldn't wander there unless he was absolutely sure that Yukiko and Tohsaka were kept there.

In front of the main entrance was parked the black van. Four men stood around it, completely motionless, eyes lost in the void in front of them. Mere puppets. The only reason for them to be still there was because the Magus hadn't dismissed them yet.

… They weren't looking out for him though. Did it mean that he had really managed to get under the wards undetected or was the resident Magus trying to lure him into a false sense of security?

That didn't seem likely. Since he arrived he hadn't used any Thaumaturgy, so the owner of this place had no way of knowing that the intruder was a Magic user, and that type of trap would work only against someone who could understand why four people were acting like mindless zombies.

So, maybe he had managed to sneak his way in. That didn't mean he could recklessly use his Magecraft. If he still had the surprise factor on his side he would do better to cash it in full. Should an open confrontation arise, surprising his opponent with magic could prove to be an invaluable trump card. That meant that he had to get inside and explore the building in an entirely mundane fashion.

Well, perhaps that wasn't a big problem to begin with. There were just a couple of windows on the third floor from where he could see some light. Unless someone was lurking in the darkness, waiting for him, it stood to reason that everyone who wasn't currently sleeping was in one of those rooms.

Without a noise he leapt from the branch and landed in a crouch beyond the wall. The four men didn't react to his presence, proving even further that no one knew of his entrance.

Some luck was quite welcome for a change, but that didn't mean he was about to push it. He avoided the front entrance and walked around the building, shooting glances through every window, just in case.

As he had imagined there was a back door, probably employed by the staff that usually manned such a big mansion. That brought up another matter, though. Magi didn't want strangers running around their homes, not even under their employment: thus, they normally used some sort of familiar to take care of basic house chores. Golems, homunculi and such creatures were intelligent enough to double as security should the need arise.

Once inside he would have to consider everything as a threat. No matter how lucky he had been thus far, he was not even remotely in control of the situation. Clearing his mind and putting his breathing under control he reached for the door.

It was obviously locked, but it had been worth a shot. With Magic not being an option at the moment, a silent entry could be achieved only through some good ol' lock picking. From a pocket he retrieved a small box with all the tools he needed. There was more to being a hero than just fighting the bad guys. Shirou and Kiritsugu had many differences when it came to what they were willing to do to achieve their goals, but the redhead certainly couldn't say that he hadn't learned all manner of useful stuff from his foster father.

With a click the door opened and Shirou slipped inside without a noise.

As suspected he was now in the mansion's kitchen. The appliances were quite old, but that wasn't a surprise where a Magus was involved. Slowly and silently he moved to the next door and opened it enough to take a peek in the corridor illuminated by the eerie moonlight. No people, no familiars, no one could be seen. It seemed too good to be true, and in all likelihood it was.

He left the kitchen and moved forward, paying attention to every noise.

There was a lesson Shirou had learned from his father, probably one of the most important: once in an enemy's territory, when everything seems quiet and you don't feel threatened at all, in that moment, the enemy is right behind you.

It wasn't like he heard a noise or anything like that. He just suddenly felt like his life was in danger and promptly rolled to the side, just a moment before something passed where his head had been. He immediately scrambled back on his feet, putting up a defensive stance and searching for his silent assailant.

In the pale light of the moon that filtered from the windows at both ends of the corridor, something stood on four legs. Something with sharp claws and fangs, that reflected the light with an ominous glint.

"Grrwlll…," the thing growled menacingly, taking a step closer to Shirou and further into the light.

The blood froze in his veins when the creature was fully exposed to his sight.

Its dark fur looked like a dog's, but the creature was bigger than any exemplar of that species he had seen in his life. Its claws were several inches long, looking like they could cut through steel like a hot knife through butter, and its fangs reached almost all the way to the floor.

It was a creature designed to kill, but it wasn't its deadly appearance that made Shirou stomach twist. It was the face – a face - that made his blood run cold. A clearly human visage stared at him from a body that was anything but.

The realization of what the thing in front of him actually was fueled his rage and shook him out of his stupor just in time to avoid another attack from the beast.

A chimera. A beast made by combining parts from different animals, and in this case, people as well. They were not something common, not even amongst Magi. The difficulty of making parts coexist from different creatures severely outshone any effective usefulness, and the result would usually live for a scant few hours, usually without being capable of coordinating their movements.

But this creature was different. It looked like it had grown after it was put together, as each part integrated seamlessly with the others, resulting in a stable specimen.

It wasn't something that could have been achieved on the spot, but it had to be the result of several experiments.

How many people and animals had been harvested and pieced together? How many people had screamed in pain while their bodies were torn apart?

If there was a thing that could be called a monster, it was the person who sought such a result more than the resulting creature itself.

But that wasn't the time to be mull over such things. The bastard would get its own for taking Yukiko and Tohsaka, as well for this unforgivable atrocity. To do that, though, Shirou had to move past the chimera, preferably in one piece. Which could have turned out to be rather difficult if he kept not focusing on the incoming attack.

Four claw marks erupted on the tapestry, behind the spot where Shirou's torso would have been had he not ducked away.

Before the chimera had a chance to turn, Shirou had taken out his bow and shot three pointed arrows in rapid succession. Each and every projectile met its target as intended.

And then clattered on the floor uselessly.

That was bad. Whatever that fur was made of, it repelled normal arrows like they were nothing. Worse, it only served to enrage the creature even more, if the pained growl it emitted was any indication.

If things kept up like that he would have been forced to show his hand before getting anywhere close to the mastermind. If he used his mysteries against the familiars, the Magus could definitely discern what his abilities were and come up with an efficient set of countermeasures without giving Shirou a chance to do the same.

He had to employ a different tactic if he wanted to keep his aces up his sleeve. Therefore he switched to a stronger mean of offense without tapping into his Thaumaturgy, and for the first time that night he was thankful for the added weight at his side.

With a hiss of steel, Monohoshizao slid out of its scabbard, capturing the few rays of light upon its surface, almost challenging the beast to come forth with its enmity.

Once again Shirou was surprised by the feeling the blade exuded. The inherent threat that he could feel was so intense that even the crazed beast became less aggressive and more attentive.

The two stood still, mindful of the threat they both represented. Silent appraisal passed between them like an unspoken truce had been established. It was an explosive situation, both waiting for the other to show an opening to exploit.

The first to move was likely to be the first to fall.

* * *

><p>Nausea, vertigo and the unbearable feeling of intrusion stirred her from her slumber.<p>

"She's waking up, Master," a distance voice announced without inflection.

"As expected," a male voice scoffed from outside of her blurred field of vision. "The amount of Prana coursing through her body is accelerating her metabolism. Your task is done for now. You are dismissed."

"As you wish, Master," the woman replied evenly before a mystical sound was heard.

Rin blinked, shredding the haze that clouded her mind with every breath.

"Where…," she mumbled drunkenly. She was lying against a cold, hard surface, staring at ceiling without the strength to get up.

Someone stepped in her line of sight. A man with bright red hair, dressed in white clothes decorated with silver lines intertwined in a complex patter. She could recognize a few runes in the design.

A Magus.

"Who?" she asked with a clearer voice. "Who are you?"

"I am Vincent Guilford of Guilford, Miss Tohsaka," the man introduced himself arrogantly. Just by speaking his name the Magus showed just how much self-esteem he possessed. She normally would have scoffed at such a display and relegated such a person to the lowest levels of her consideration.

She wasn't in the condition to do such a thing, however. Even in her slightly altered state of mind it was obvious that she was his captive. Her body didn't answer to her commands nor did her Circuits.

She was spellbound, no doubt about that, but there was also something else that bothered her.

Even though her mind was racing through countless ways to counteract the enchantments that held her down, she couldn't muster a single hostile thought toward the man that put her in such a condition.

A cold shiver went down her spine, though she didn't give any outward sign of her discomfort. Was she under some kind of mind-altering spell?

That was a horrifying thought for a lot of different reasons. For one thing, not being in possession of her own thoughts was a nauseating idea. Hypnosis was one thing, as it caged the consciousness of an individual in order to gain control of the body. Once dispelled, the subject would return to its normal self, often entirely oblivious to anything it might have happened.

Secondly, in order to alter even slightly the mind of a Magus required access to a level of Thaumaturgy well above average. The natural rejection of foreign energies would prevent any form of conventional control and most spells to that end would be nullified before they had a chance to take hold. Of course, being unconscious and drugged might have somewhat lessened her defenses, but sealing away just a specific line of thought was entirely too complex, too subtle to achieve even with the slightest interference.

"I know what you are thinking," the foreigner stated amusedly. "You are wondering what kind of enchantment I employed to gain a hold over your mind. Ah, Miss Tohsaka, if only you knew how utterly mistaken you are."

She frowned. Mistaken? How was she mistaken? She could almost _feel_ the difficulty of focusing on a thought that involved bodily harm to the man in question. It was ridiculous to think that he had employed a mundane process to circumvent her natural defenses. Drugs could do wonders to weaken the mind, but they required constant use over a long time. Furthermore it was anything but a precise process.

"What do you want from me?" she finally decided to ask. Without enough elements to figure out how he did such a thing, perhaps the_why_ would offer a better insight.

The man chuckled and walked away. Rin felt the binding over her body lessen somewhat. She managed to pull herself to a sitting position and take a look at her current predicament.

She was on a stone altar in the middle of a room. The floor was covered by a complex array of runes, drawn in blood. A Magic Circle. A huge and overly complex Circle that could be employed only for a ritual of proportional magnitude.

And she had been laying unconscious in the middle of it.

A shiver passed over her body, and this time it wasn't caused by an unpleasant thought, rather from a genuine feeling of coldness. She looked down at her body and it took all of her composure not to shriek at the top of her lungs.

She was completely naked, her young body exposed for the man to see as he wished. Faster than she thought possible she wrapped her hands around her torso and clamped her legs close.

"What have you done to me?" she demanded from the man, Guilford, who was now seated on a luxurious chair at the other side of the room. Only then she realized that her friend, Yukiko, was standing still beside her captor, her eyes locked on the white clad figure with obvious adoration. "What have you done to Yukiko?"

"Relax, Miss Tohsaka. I assure you that neither you nor your friend will come to any harm while in my care. In fact I believe that we will be cooperating a lot in the future."

"Don't feed me that nonsense. You kidnapped me. You brainwashed Yukiko. If you think I'm going to help you in any manner then you are more delusional than I gave you credit for."

"Yes, I can see how that would not put you in the mood to help," Guilford chuckled amusedly as he ran a hand through his hair. "Though you are under the assumption that you have any choice in the matter. Again, you are gravely mistaken."

"What do you want from me?" she inquired again, fury spilling in her voice.

"Everything," the man stated ominously as he leaned forward.

Tohsaka couldn't help but shudder.

* * *

><p>Monohoshizao met the beast's claw in midair with a clash of steel, sending sparks flying into the darkness.<p>

Shirou cursed inwardly and spun, allowing the chimera to sail beyond him. A few scratches on his arms and torso testified how close he came to being ripped to shreds. It was only thanks to a great deal of luck that he hadn't died yet.

No, that wasn't exactly true. Although he couldn't explain it, every time he came close to be cut to death, Monohoshizao was suddenly in the path of the razor sharp claws, saving his life at the last possible moment.

That was a ridiculous concept. The sword had no ability whatsoever. It was Shirou's arm that moved the blade, but he couldn't help but feel that, rather than it being him who wielded the sword, it was the sword that wielded him.

Every swing he took was more precise, cleaner and faster than before. The narrow space of the corridor was becoming less and less of a problem. His movements were smoothing out and only his relatively short height in relation to the length of the sword made using Monohoshizao a little awkward.

Slowly, he began gaining the upper hand over the Chimera. The beast was forced to defend, when just moments before it used to be on the offense most of the time. Step after step, swing after swing, Shirou pushed the creature until its back was against the wall at the end of the corridor.

It was bleeding from several cuts, but it gave no sign of feeling pain. Even now that it was backed into a corner, its eyes held nothing but absolute malice and no fear for its own well being.

With no way to retreat anymore, the creature went for the only course of action its limited intellect could find. In a desperate attempt it crouched and once more leapt at Shirou, with every intention of cleaving his head off.

As if cutting the moonlight itself, Monohoshizao hissed through the night and with a wet sound in carved a long cut in the Chimera's midsection. Blood sprayed on Shirou's head, but the boy was far too focused to be bothered by it.

The creature had yet to hit the ground again when the exceedingly long blade came for another hit, successfully cutting the Chimera in two parts.

Both parts slid on the ground until they stopped a few meters away. It should have been enough. Anything would die if it were cut in half, right?

Wrong.

The upper part continued to move. With undying tenacity the Chimera dragged itself toward Shirou, with only its front legs and nothing but killing intent in its eyes.

It could no longer fight, Shirou realized immediately. In all likelihood it would soon bleed out and stop moving altogether, but even in its weakened state it sought nothing but his death.

A pang of pity echoed in his heart. The twisted creature was beyond any help. The person it used to be was long gone. There was no salvation for it in this live.

Therefore…

He closed the distance, ignoring the danger the Chimera still represented. Monohoshizao stood vertically above his head splitting the night in two.

"I'm sorry," he muttered loud enough for the creature to hear, though there was no chance it could comprehend his words or his feelings. "Please, find salvation in death."

He swung down one last time, spraying his masked face with yet more blood. With a powerful groan the Chimera shuddered and finally lay still.

"I'm sorry," he repeated once more in the corridor now void of life.

He remained like that for a long minute, using Monohoshizao to support his weight. Taking a life was heavy, no matter how twisted it had been and no matter how much of a merciful act it was.

Finally, he pulled himself straight once more, wiped the blood off the blade with one swing and then returned it to its scabbard.

He couldn't remain there. There were still people that needed his help, and he wasn't about to fail them.

With one last glance at the corpse he turned and headed for the stairs.

Swallowing his feeling for the pitiful creature, Shirou began examining the creature's structure in his mind. He couldn't perform an in-depth examination without using his Structural Grasping, but at least he could make a few educated guesses on the crafter's abilities.

For one thing, creating a living being from parts of others wasn't, by any means, a simple task. It wasn't something that could be accomplished by a common Alteration. It definitely was something outside of the standard array of skill that every Magus possessed.

Therefore, the Magus in question had to be specialized in a branch of Magecraft that manipulated life, but he didn't know of any family that could do something like that.

What sort of craft could obtain such results?

* * *

><p>"Rule of Blood?" Tohsaka inquired, still doing her best to cover her body.<p>

"Indeed," the man confirmed with a grandiose gesture of his arms. "That is the name of my Sorcery Trait."

"What has it to do with anything? I think that's a trait that favored healing oriented Magecraft."

Guilford nodded approvingly. "You've heard of it, I see. Yes, Rule of Blood allows me to accelerate all and every healing processes. Even the transplant of a Crest can be eased with its employment."

"A useful support skill," she observed, though there was no real appreciation in her voice.

Keeping her cool and letting the megalomaniac go through his self-absorbed rant was her top priority. Magi usually didn't share in depth knowledge of their Mysteries, for obvious reason. If the man was fool enough to spill the beans of his own volition it was all the better for her. The more she knew, the easier would be breaking out of her bindings.

She was also getting less and less uncomfortable with being naked. She couldn't allow embarrassment to bother her if she needed to act swiftly, after all.

"Yes, that is what most people would think," the man smirked. Rin didn't like the way she stared at her body now that she had eased her posture. "But there is so much more than that."

She narrowed her eyes. She could understand the man being arrogant, but that was insane. You just don't divulge that kind of knowledge unless… unless he was absolutely convinced that she couldn't oppose him in any manner.

"No doubt," she said dryly.

"Mock all you want, little girl. You wouldn't be the first person to do so, or the last to fall prey of your preconceptions."

"Really? What are you going to do with it? Heal me to death?"

"Don't think that such a thing is beyond my ability. How difficult do you think it would be for me to accelerate the speed at which your cells reproduce? I could kill you with a cancer in a manner of minutes."

"Nonsense," she scoffed. "The natural resistance to foreign energies would nullify the effect before they it could escalate that much."

"That is a fairly good assumption," he nodded, though his constant smirk told her he thought differently. "Of course your body would get rid of all external influences like my Prana, but it certainly will not do the same with yours."

"W-what?"

"You see, the reason why Rule of Blood can ease a transplant is because it possesses an incredible adaptability." He pulled up the sleeve of his left arm, exposing the skin littered with needle marks.

"When I inject my blood inside another person, Rule of Blood equalizes the differences by acting as the host's own cells. If the host has received an organ or a Crest form another person, it acts as a medium between the two, nullifying the possibility of a rejection. In short, the host's body and circuits recognizes my blood as a part of its own system. But even then, the blood is still my own and reacts only to my command."

Rin froze, putting the pieces together. Having a foreign entity insider her, something that her body and Circuits couldn't identify as a threat, meant that her defense mechanisms were all but nullified. The man could very well live up to his threats.

"Why going through all of this trouble? Why involve Yukiko in this?"

"Well, there is a number of reasons for that. In spite of my amazing Sorcery trait, I'm not really a combat type. I can hold myself well during a battle, but I'd rather avoid taking the risk if I could. In addition to that I honestly didn't want to drag that troublesome guardian of yours into my business."

"Kirei?" she asked in disbelief. "You are quite a fool if you think that he would be interested if I disappeared or even died."

"Yes, well, it's not so much that he's your guardian that worries me. I just didn't want him to mess with me in his capacity of Manager of the Holy Grail War."

"What? The Holy Grail War is not going to start for another fifty years."

"Ah, I believed you already knew. How disappointing. No, Miss Tohsaka, the War is already about to start and…," he removed the glove from his left hand, exposing a shining hexagonal mark, with a flowery pattern within. "I'm going to be a Master in it. Caster, show yourself."

She appeared out of thin air, materializing in a purple robe that covered her entire body. Even her face was mostly hidden under a hood, but there was no mistaking her gender or her nature.

Even without her Circuits, Rin could feel the overwhelming presence of a being that was not human.

A Servant. A goddamned Servant had been summoned.

"How…," she muttered in disbelief. The summoning of a Servant meant that the Grail War was about to start, but even disregarding the fact that it was happening fifty years too early, she couldn't explain why a Magus who wasn't part of one of the three founding families had received a Command Seal before she did.

"Honestly, I'm not privy to the reasons behind the Grail's current activities," Guilford admitted. "But I'm not one to look in a gift horse mouth. I just took advantage of the situation and decided to set up a proper course of action before the other participants were selected."

"All of this…," Rin asked. "It was all to get to me?"

"Indeed," Guilford admitted. "The members of the founding families are the only ones that are sure to be picked for the war. I certainly couldn't touch the Einzberns, and the Makiri line has long since died out. Still, getting to you directly could have been problematic, and it would have forced me to reveal my participation in the game far too early. Reaching you through your friends was a little more complex, but far less risky."

"You decided to eliminate me before I had the chance to summon my Servant. Too bad I have yet to receive a Command Seal."

"No, killing you was never my intention. Besides, so long as you receive a Command Seal everything is as I've planned."

"Do you intend to take it from me and summon another Servant yourself? You can't possibly have enough Prana to sustain two of them, and even if they sustained themselves by devouring other people's energy they would still severely weakened."

Guilford chuckled and shook his head.

"No, no. You've got it all wrong. I have no intention of taking your Command Seal away from you. Like you said, it would only weaken both Servants and it would cause the other Masters to team up against me."

"You… you can possibly be implying that I'd fight with you."

"With me? It never crossed my mind. For me? You most certainly will."

"You are insane. I will ever work for you. If you are stupid enough to believe that I won't find my way around the spells you cast on me and turn my Servant against you…"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he interrupted her rant. "It would be troublesome if you did such thing. Fortunately for me you won't even try to free yourself from my control. Let me give you a practical explanation."

He stood and walked toward her. She defiantly tried her best not to show her discomfort at being naked while he was so close. Her resolve held true until his hand touched her face.

Then the world exploded inside her.

Out of instinct she swatted away his hand and fell backward and off the altar. Ignoring the pain from her head hitting the floor she backed away until her back was against the wall.

Her body was trembling, but it wasn't out of fear even though she was scared senseless.

"Felt that, did you?"

"What have… what have you done to my body?" This time she couldn't keep the fear out of her voice. There was no helping it. Her heart was thumping madly in her chest and her body was feeling intensely hot.

"Oh, it's not that difficult to understand. I already gave you all the hints you need to come up with your own answer. Still not getting it? Well, allow me to explain, exactly, just how powerful Rule of Blood actually is."

He ignored her defenseless form and returned to the middle of the room, sitting almost casually on the altar.

"The power of Rule of Blood lies in its incredible healing factor. Normally it would be safe to assume that it would heal the person who I inject it to, but that would be a mistake. Even while in another's person body, my blood still answers to my commands. And the instruction I gave to the blood I put inside you was to heal me."

"Heal… heal you? How can it heal you if it's inside me?"

"You surely know that there's more to blood that just carrying oxygen and nutrients through the body. The immune system, for instance, has the purpose to protect its owner for harm. Now, how would my immune system protect _me_ while it's inside _you_?"

Rin paled. She was so white that she looked like she had no longer any blood in her veins. It was pretty much what she wished for herself at that moment.

"I see you understand now. The reason why you can't think of a way to harm me is because your body is already changing. It takes longer for the mind, especially of a trained Magus, but as time goes on you'll be less and less inclined to be hostile to me. In a week's time you will consciously act to protect me, and in a month you won't even be able of even thinking of refusing my orders."

"That's not possible," she answered. "Even with a high rate healing factor there's no way that your blood alone can do that."

"Of course it isn't," he admitted. "Powerful as it is, it's just blood. But there are certain advantages to having summoned a Magus from the Age of Gods as a Servant. Caster's knowledge of long lost Magecrafts allowed me to devise a Ritual that makes every single blood cell a receptacle of my will."

"No… I won't allow that," Rin clenched her jaw. "I will never allow that."

"Ah, defiance," Guilford sighed wistfully, shaking his head. "That look never gets old, especially because it never lasts. Miss Tohsaka, you already felt the effect it has on your body. It's not even been an hour and you already react to my touch. Soon enough you'll yearn for it, you'll seek me out of your own volition, you'll do anything to earn my attention. You will essentially be in love with me. Utterly, desperately in love. Just like Yukiko can attest to. Isn't that right, my pet?"

"Yes Master," Yukiko chirped happily. "You don't have to fight it, Rin. It's wonderful to be loved by Master Vincent."

"I refuse," Rin growled. "No matter what happens I won't give in."

"You are welcome to try. Let us see if you are going to be of the same opinion in a month. In the meantime…."

He stopped whatever he was about to say, eyes wide. His gaze moved sharply from Rin to the only door of the room.

"How interesting," he mused dryly. "It seems we have an unexpected guest. One of my Chimeras has been slaughtered. Caster, would you mind explaining why I wasn't informed of this?"

"My apologizes," she said softly. "But as I was entirely focused on the ritual I may have missed the signal from the wards."

"Can you track him?"

"As per your command, the Boundary Field I set up around this mansion is exclusively perimetric. Anything stronger than that would have been detected from afar. I believe you didn't want unwanted attention."

"Tch. Useless woman. I will send my Chimeras after the intruder, then. It the meantime we'd better move our guest to her new room. Caster, escort them. I'll make sure that this trespasser knows exactly the price for stepping inside my house uninvited."

"Master, it would be wise if you allowed me to deal with this nuisance."

"Don't play me for a fool, Caster," he said looking back through narrowed eyes. "I'm not yet convinced this person managed to sneak inside without your consent. I'll take care of it myself."

"But Master, it might be dangerous. The enemy could be a Magus. Another Master even."

"Don't be ridiculous. Have you detected any use of Prana? Besides I know exactly who the little rat is, though I wonder if his appearance is purely a coincidence or if Adachi was stupid enough to actually double-cross me. Never mind. I guess I'll have to find out myself.

He stalked out of the room, slamming the door violently behind him.

Rin watched the exchange between Master and Servant carefully. She was definitely scared by her current circumstances, but she wouldn't allow them to hamper her judgment. She hadn't lost yet.

She was surprised, though, when the Servant threw her a bundle of clothes. Her clothes.

"You'd better get dressed, little Magus. Unless you prefer to walk around like that."

Rin grumbled, but complied nonetheless. She could preserve her modesty, at the very least. With her body covered once more, she focused on her current predicament. Even though she couldn't directly fight against that pig of Guilford, she could at least try and escape. If she managed to return to her home she could come up with a solution.

There were a number of way to counteract Guilford's meddling that didn't involve the use of her Circuits. She had a decent number of jewels charged with Prana in her workshop that she could use to start up just about any enchantment.

And once she was free she would immediately address the issue of not having a Servant. She didn't care for the class she'd summon so long as she'd get to give that pig a piece of her mind. And her foot.

Yes, Tohsaka Rin's revenge would be something terrible to witness, but first she had to get out of there. With Guilford looking for the newcomer she could think more clearly. They took away all the jewels she had hidden inside her clothes, but they had severely underestimated her.

She had to refrain from smirking. Things were worse than she had imagined they would be, but Guilford wasn't the only one who planned ahead.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN: All right, another chapter is out. I suppose that at this point you should be able to understand what was Guilford unforgivable sin in Caster's eyes. You might be curious as of why the Grail is dishing out Command Seal so early before the war and not in the correct order.<p>

if you want explanations, either wait for the story to eventually explain it (very far in the story) or ask for details in my Forum. No need to increase the word count with a long explanation.

That will be all for now.

See ya.


	14. Breaking the Rules

**Chapter 13 – Breaking the Rules**

(Published: 10.01.12 - Beta: RavingScholar, Cloud Link Zero)**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Rin observed the scenery with a somewhat distasteful glance. The part of the basement where Caster was leading her was damp and cold. It was the spitting image of a holding cell from a history book, and looked exactly as comfortable.<p>

Well, perhaps she had more important things to worry about than her level of comfort: namely, the Servant walking behind her. Seriously, how had the situation gotten so bad? Being the prisoner of a Master with a Servant already summoned was the worst of worst-case scenarios. Frankly, the only thing that could make the situation any worse was if the Master in question was a Dead Apostle Ancestor.

He wasn't, but that didn't really offer her any consolation. Still, there was a single thought about the entire situation that wouldn't leave her alone, and that could very well make a difference in her bid for freedom.

As she expected all the gems she had hidden in her clothes were gone. It was normal that they would be removed, since she could use them simply by vocal activation and without the use of her circuits. Then why hadn't the Servant taken away the gems she had hidden…. _elsewhere_?

Sure, just about every Magus would have missed them, but there was no way in hell that Caster, the Servant most proficient in Thaumaturgy, would have missed them.

She stole a glance at the human shaped entity behind her and found confirmation of her suspicions in the tiniest of smirks she received back.

She knew. Caster definitely knew of her plans, and yet she didn't take any measures to counteract them, nor had she informed her Master of them. Her impression had to be right. There was bad blood between Master and Servant, and that would come back to bite Guilford in the ass.

"Step inside," Caster ordered when they arrived in front of her cell, a space that wasn't bigger than two meters in each direction and only had 2a simple bed as furniture. She gave Rin a shove, forcing her to walk behind the bars that immediately closed behind her.

"No need to be pushy," Rin complained, massaging her shoulder. "I can walk by myself just fine."

"No doubt," Caster agreed. "You walked into a trap without a problem, little girl. I do wonder if you'll be able to walk out just as easily."

"Are you testing me, Servant?" she asked defiantly. Perhaps it wasn't the wisest course of action, but she needed to understand where Caster stood in relation to her. She couldn't quite ask if she would act against Guilford by letting her go. Not with Yukiko listening anyway. Conditioned as she was, her friend was practically like a familiar. Chances were that she shared at least an emphatic bond with the asshole that had enslaved her.

"Who knows?" Caster replied far less mockingly than what she could have been. "You look like a competent Magus, as far as this era goes. Perhaps you will grant me some measure of entertainment before the night is over."

She then left in the same direction they came from without sparing so much as a glance back at her. Yukiko still remained by her cell like a silent sentinel.

That was it. The confirmation she was looking for. It was a far cry from an alliance, but Caster had made it obvious that she wouldn't hinder her attempts to escape, at least until her Master told her otherwise. There weren't many ways for Servants to escape their Masters' orders so long as a Command Seal was in place.

But at least, with this mysterious intruder keeping Guilford's attention away from her, she could get away undetected and hopefully far enough before he noticed her disappearance.

"That was unexpected," Rin muttered to herself. The entire night had been a constant surprise: her abduction, Guilford's abilities and finally the appearance of a Servant. Admittedly, there were a bunch of things she really didn't and couldn't prepare for, but there was one thing she knew was going to happen beforehand: Yukiko's unwilling betrayal.

Guilford was a fool. He really underestimated her to the point of not realizing that she knew all along that Yukiko was under a compulsion. She was a genius, and not only Thaumaturgy-wise. There were perks to having been trained by an Executor of the Holy Church, and detecting enmity directed at her was one of such things.

She immediately noticed how Yukiko never seemed to lose sight of her when she was around, and how she stared when she thought no one was looking. It felt like she was glaring at a target, waiting for the best moment to strike. Granted, she had expected something more direct, something that would have allowed her to fight back before being incapacitated, but that didn't mean she hadn't prepared for a counterattack in case all of her jewels were taken away from her.

There were a number of ways to prevent Magi from accessing their Circuits that she knew of, and even though the one employed by Guilford was new to her, her contingency plan was still usable.

She'd have to play her cards carefully, though. Moving too early or too soon would mean failure without a doubt. With the grace that was proper of a Tohsaka, she sat on the bed and waited patiently for her chance to strike.

* * *

><p>"Shit, shit, shit," Shirou muttered as he ran through the corridors of the second floor, chased by a group of four Chimeras.<p>

Frankly, he didn't expect the one he fought on the first floor to be the only one, but he didn't expect that many more either.

He certainly couldn't fight that many in such a narrow space. Even with reinforcement, he couldn't hope to match that many opponents at the same time. He ran with the intention of exploiting a difference in their speed to engage them one by one, but the Chimeras seemed to have the some kind of pack behavior and didn't stray from one another.

A tactical retreat soon became a run for his life, as he tried to come up with a plan to dispatch his pursuers, mindful of the fact that the longer he took the lower his chances were to find Tohsaka and Yukiko unharmed.

"Damn it," he swore. "If I can't outfight them, then I'll outsmart them."

Now, that was easier said than done. He wasn't quite sure what their capabilities were. Did they have an enhanced sense of smell like the beast they resembled? Or did their human parts grant them a better intellect at the price of tracking abilities?

Well, there was just one way to find out.

The mansion was pretty big, with at least ten rooms per floor, and structured in a series of long parallel corridors connected with one another by shorter ones. That layout allowed him to disappear from the line of sight of the Chimeras for a few seconds when he turned a corner, and he decided to take advantage of those few seconds to try and lose them.

When he was about to reach the end of a long corridor he turned sharply to the left, but instead of running he hastily opened a window and climbed outside, holding himself out of view.

Holding his breath he heard the four growling beasts run past his position and disappear further down the corridor. What do you know? A plan made on the fly actually worked for a change. That had to be a first.

He climbed back inside as fast as he could and after a quick check he left in the opposite direction. Stealthily, he made his way toward the stairs to the third floor, but when he was about to get there he heard the trudging of the Chimeras coming toward his position from the front and from the back. Hoping for the best he dove for a door and slipped into a room without looking inside.

Taking a few steps away from the door he unsheathed Monohoshizao and prepared to fight. If they figured out his position he would at least be ready to engage them. Depending on how they barged inside he could wound or kill at least a couple before he was forced on the defensive.

The tension inside him kept building up as he heard the creatures rustling around in confusion. They sniffed the air, searching for his scent, growling menacingly as they got closer to the door.

He was sure they were about to burst inside. There was no way they could lose is trail now. The hammer in his head was ready to drop, and his Circuits were ready to receive the familiar flood of Prana.

But it didn't happen.

After a little more growling and sniffing, the beasts left in another direction, as if they had been lured by some unseen figure.

"What the hell? How could they have lost me?" he wondered relatively loudly, cautiously stepping toward the door.

_"That would be my doing, boya."_

To his credit Shirou didn't jump out of his skin, but he still turned around pretty damn quick, weapon at the ready. In spite of being prepared to face whatever threat had managed to get behind him, Shirou didn't expect anything like the person he saw in that moment.

A purplish cloak shrouded the female figure, hiding her feature from sight. The cloth almost seemed to leech away what little light filtered through the curtains, making the room even darker.

There wasn't any perceivable threat in her posture and Shirou had the impression that she wasn't exactly there, but more like a projected image of sort.

"Who are you?"

It could have sounded like a stupid question, but there was little doubt in his mind that the woman was the Magus who created the Chimeras, or else she wouldn't have sent them away. She probably wasn't an enemy either, or she would have attacked him while his back was turned.

There was something about her presence, faint though it was, that made him think that she wasn't quite human. From that cloak shrouded in darkness, the only thing he could actually feel was-

"Names aren't something that should be easily shared, boya," she answered. "You might refer to me as Caster, if you must."

Caster she said. Caster.

Caster? CASTER?

**_C-A-S-T-E-R?_**

Shirou mouth snapped close so fast and gritted so hard that the noise echoed in the room.

Impossible. IMPOSSIBLE!

It had to be a coincidence. After all, his alias was the same as a Servant class. Besides, it was too early and Kiritsugu had said that it wouldn't happen again.

But she was there, at least partially, and that inhuman presence was all but confirmation in his eyes. She was a Servant, which meant that the Holy Grail War had started or was about to start again.

No, no, no, no. NONONONONONONONONO!

_TragedyPainAnguishDespairHop elessnessHateFuryAngerTraged yPainAnguishDespairHopelessn essHateFuryAngerTragedyPainA nguishDespairHopelessnessHat eFuryAnger._

The tragedy from ten years before flashed before his eyes, carrying the same scorching horror as it did when he had first experienced it. He was forced to hold back from emptying his already upset stomach right there and then. A single word escaped his lips, and it was both an affirmation and a curse.

"Servant."

If he hadn't been paying his absolute attention to her he might have missed the slightest tilt of her head, as if she were pondering the implication of his newly revealed knowledge.

"How interesting," she mused idly. "I did not expect you to be a Magus, and one aware of the Holy Grail War, on top of that. But you are not a Master, not yet. Tell me, boya, why did you come here?"

The situation had just reached an entirely new level of bad. A Magus with a Servant could only be a Master. And a Servant would protect its Master no matter what. Did he have to face such an entity to save Tohsaka? Was this entire situation a strategy by Caster's Master?

How was he going to get Tohsaka and Yukiko out of this crisis? Even by throwing away his life there was no chance he could overcome those odds. Fighting wasn't an option.

It wasn't an option, but perhaps there was no need for that. Once again, he had to remind himself that if she wanted him death, he probably wouldn't even have noticed until it was too late.

"My friends," he began, "your Master took them."

"Ah, so that's how it is. Then perhaps we can work this situation to… _our_ advantage. What do you say, boya: would you be interested in working with me?"

Shirou was no fool. Well, perhaps he was at times, but in that very moment he understood that he was bargaining with his friends lives. He couldn't afford to screw up.

"State your terms," he conceded, and he almost shivered at the predatory smile she gave him.

"I want you… to kill my Master."

All right, he wanted to be surprised. He really, really wanted to be surprised, but couldn't say that he was. Servants didn't just go around making deals with other Magi behind their Masters back if they didn't plan for something like that.

That didn't mean he liked it in the slightest, of course. Shirou wasn't the biggest fan of Caster's Master and he had yet to meet him. Granted, his Magecraft spoke volumes of his character, but Shirou didn't really enjoy the thought of premeditated killing.

"Why would you want your Master dead?"

"I'm dissatisfied with him," she said off handedly. Somehow Shirou didn't believe it was simple as that. A Servant's existence depended on the Master, after all, and if he killed him Caster would probably just disappear.

"Wouldn't that kill you as well?"

"I have enough Prana to last long enough to find another suitable Master. Would you perhaps be interested in taking over the position?"

Shirou thought she was almost joking when she asked, but she was in fact dead serious. There was no amusement in her voice, and yet it didn't actually feel like she was proposing him a contract either.

"Not at all," Shirou replied, surprised by how fast his answer to that question came. He could almost see some honest curiosity on her face at that.

"You… don't? You honestly don't wish to obtain the Holy Grail," she observed, actually sounding surprised by the truth of that statement. "You do realize that is an all powerful artifact that can realize any single wish?"

"It's a lie," Shirou stated cryptically looking at the floor. "The promises of the Grail are just lies and deceptions."

* * *

><p>Betrayal, deceptions, and lies.<p>

Medea of Colchis knew all those and more. She had experienced them first hand through her life, and she had revisited them on others time and time again. She had lived an accursed existence, one that she wouldn't wish upon… well, she actually did wish her life on a number of people, but that was beside the point.

The fact remained that if there was one thing that her life had bestowed on her, it was the ability to discern if she was being lied to.

The Magus boy didn't lie. She honestly thought that as far as deception went, he didn't have much talent. Even though he wore a mask, she could tell he wasn't any good at keeping things hidden. He didn't possess any malice and, though he seemed quite strong for a human, he didn't have the presence of someone who enjoyed needless violence.

Yet he was in another Magus' territory, armed and willing to fight, and in spite of being in the presence of an entity far more powerful than he was he didn't back down in the slightest. He actually had the gall to refuse her offer of making a contract with her, though it had only been a way for her to test what sort of person he was.

And he did all of that for the sake of somebody else. That pretty much narrowed down the category of people he belonged to, one she wasn't particularly fond of: Heroes.

She would have considered mocking the boy for his foolishness, if her mind wasn't currently engaged in far more practical thoughts: namely, the newly revealed deception that said hero was positive the Grail represented.

"What do you mean, boya? How is the grail a lie? It is its power that allows my presence in this world. How could that be fake?"

"The Grail…it's just an amplifier," he explained warily. "It's all-powerful in terms of sheer energy, but it doesn't hold the solution to any problem. The only thing it can do is to give you your own answers to your own questions. Not a single drop of happiness can be found in it. It can't realize a wish that you don't know how to fulfill yourself."

She considered his words carefully, and finally released a sigh. It made sense after all. There weren't such convenient tools even in her native era, when Magecraft thrived far more than in the current times. Actually she wasn't all that interested in the Grail, but it was still disappointing that the prize for a bloody war was just an illusion.

"Then what is the reason for its existence?" she demanded. "Why would anyone devise such a complex ritual if it had no point?"

The boy shifted under her gaze, not so much out of fear but rather impatience. He didn't want to be held there. He wanted to leave and return to his silly little quest. The only reason he didn't do so was because he knew she wouldn't let him go until she was done with him.

"Look, not everyone knows this besides the founding families, but the real purpose of the Grail is to open a path to the Root. Only, in order to do that, all seven Servants must be sacrificed. That is the real function of the Command Seal: to force the last remaining Servant to take its own life and complete the ritual."

* * *

><p>Shirou had expected a broad range of reactions from the Servant in front of him. He had even expected her to kill him in blind fury, but she didn't. Of all the things he envisioned, her doing <em>that<em> was one he had failed to contemplate.

"Pfft! Ah! Ah Ahahahahaha!"

She laughed. A soft chuckle escaped her lips that soon escalated into full-blown laughter.

But she wasn't amused, Shirou realized immediately. She wasn't amused in the slightest. It was a bitter laugh that only reinforced his initial opinion of her. The overwhelming feeling that she leaked was-

"Thank you, boya," she said once she regained control of herself. "I haven't laughed so much in a long time."

"Are you all right?" he asked in honest concern. Servant or not, the person in front of him had just discovered that the ultimate purpose for her current existence was that of a living sacrifice. No one could be happy with that.

"I am," she answered amused by his apparently unneeded thoughtfulness. "I just remembered something I shouldn't have forgotten." She shook her head as if to get rid of a whimsical thought and immediately returned to her collected behavior. "Returning to our previous topic, I want you to kill my Master for me."

"Even knowing this, you still want him dead?"

"But of course. I have no desire to be bound to such a worthless excuse for a human being, regardless of what the consequences might be. Besides, if you honestly want to help your friends, killing him is the only course of action. The spells he cast on them will break only with his death. You have no other option."

Shirou groaned. He didn't want to kill. He honestly did not want to kill anyone. Just the thought of taking a life nauseated him to no end. He didn't know the details of the other Magus' Thaumaturgy, but it was undeniable that most Magecrafts would simply be undone with the death of the casters. Was there really no other way?

"I can't hesitate, boya. My Master is not deserving of your or anyone's compassion, and if you give him a reason and a chance to use a Command Seal to make me fight you…"

Her statement lingered, but Shirou fully caught the implication of her unspoken words. Truth be told, he had been extremely lucky. If Caster didn't have a grudge against her Master, he would probably be dead by now, and there would be no one left to help the girls.

If her Master forced Caster to fight him the only possible outcome was failure. Was the life of a scumbag Magus who didn't value human life worth risking Tohsaka and Yukiko's?

In a word, no.

"I understand," he finally accepted, clenching his sword tighter. "If that's what must be done then I'll do it."

The feral smile returned at his answer.

"Very well then. Let me give you some advice that you could use."

* * *

><p>Vincent Guilford wasn't stupid.<p>

He was arrogant, egotistical and sexist, but he wasn't stupid. He immediately understood that something was wrong when the pack of Chimeras tracked the intruder to a room on the first floor…a room that he discovered to be empty.

Now, his Chimeras weren't the best trackers in the world, but they still shouldn't have lost a trail in a closed environment. Being completely misled was simply inconceivable unless the intruder wasn't as ignorant of Magic as he initially thought him to be.

When the images transmitted by the dying Chimera reached him, he immediately realized the identity of the trespasser. The black mask was unmistakable, especially after the media coverage of the past few days. Archer had found his way to Vincent's home in Fuyuki and that didn't sit well with him.

Initially, he thought that Adachi had tipped off the vigilante as to the real target of his plot, and that Archer was keeping an eye on the Tohsaka girl when his abduction plan reached its final stage. Now, though, he wasn't so.

Even though the boy hadn't used any Magecraft, normal people didn't fight against creatures born from Thaumaturgy, win mostly unhurt and then figure out how to mislead them in their own territory. No, the boy was more than he appeared to be. He couldn't be a Magus though. No self-respecting practitioner of the Craft would fight without employing it on some level, and it was unthinkable that someone who fought on a regular basis hadn't developed at least some degree of combat oriented Magecraft.

No, the boy was no Magus, but he definitely knew of it. Perhaps he was some sort of retainer for the Tohsaka family? It would make sense considering that Fuyuki was their territory. Having a normal human skilled in mundane combat but aware of the existence of Magecraft would grant them a better control of their land and would allow them relax on minor problems that could be handled without Thaumaturgy. It would also create an efficient distraction for the public eye from stranger but less noticeable events.

It would also explain how the vigilante had gotten involved with the kidnapping of Yukiko. Damn it, he had severely underestimated the resourcefulness of the Tohsaka family and the situation at large

But that didn't mean he was going to lose. Even though he hadn't predicted this development, the Tohsaka girl didn't know any detail of his Magecraft until Vincent himself told her of it and she wasn't aware of his status as a Master until a few minutes before.

Granted, he didn't trust his Servant in the slightest. Who would ever be stupid enough to trust the Witch of Betrayal with anything? But even though he couldn't trust her, her existence still depended on his. There wouldn't even be need of a Command Seal to keep her in her place. Not that he was prone waste one before the conflict had even officially begun. That would be the most idiotic waste of an absolute command ever.

Regardless of that he would take care of this nuisance personally. Hmm… if he managed to capture the boy alive he could gain a useful new tool, one with a deep knowledge of the land where the Holy Grail War would be fought. It would definitely make a valuable asset.

Yes, yes. It looked like he would gain even more advantages from this unexpected turn of events. He couldn't believe his luck. From the moment he received his Command Seal things had started going better and better. His family craft had advanced leaps and bounds in a few short weeks, and now he was about to grant himself the possession of an all-powerful device. Luck definitely smiled upon him, as it should.

"Let's go," he ordered to his beast as he turned to search for his soon-to-be loyal subordinate.

* * *

><p>Caster watched the Magus boy leave, closing the door behind him with as little noise as possible. Once alone in the dark room she allowed herself to lean against the wall for support.<p>

She should have known better. It looked like she had yet to learn her lesson to the fullest. There was no hope for her. Even after being elevated to the status of a Heroic Spirit, things didn't change in the slightest.

She was used to being used, to being trampled upon and finally discarded. Even the Holy Grail, a mere tool made by Magi had summoned her with the sole purpose of consuming her.

There was no escaping fate, no way to break the cycle of betrayal that made her the witch scorned by all. But then, if she was destined to disappear drowning in anguish and hopelessness, she would make sure to drag her disgraceful Master down with her.

Whether she'd get to deal the killing blow or not, Vincent Guilford wouldn't survive the night. She would make sure of that.

She spared a passing thought for the Magus boy and the two girls. Neither of them was a threat to her as they were, but she was ready to dispose of them at a moment notice if that changed for any reason. She was glad that the boy had decided to follow through with her request of his own volition, otherwise she would have been forced to waste energy to get him under her control and that would have meant a further waste of energy.

Whether they lived or died she didn't care in the slightest. If they survived that would make Vincent's downfall all the more complete, and if they perished…well, that only meant that they'd get to taste a fraction of her pain.

In any case she would have the final word on this ridiculous charade, and with that knowledge she disappeared from the room as if swallowed by the shadows. She had her own part to play if she wanted the boy to prevail over her Master in his own territory.

* * *

><p>Shirou was disturbed for list of reasons that grew longer as the night went on. Despite the gravity of the situation he felt like he was floating in a bubble of unreality. Honestly, how could he feel otherwise?<p>

The night had started badly enough when he realized that Tohsaka and Yukiko were in danger, and it only got worse from there. Discovering that a Magus was behind the entire ordeal should have been the ultimate bad revelation but it turned out to be just the tip of the iceberg instead. Putting aside the disturbing workings of Vincent Guilford's Thaumaturgy, the entire night revealed itself to be just the opening step of a sick dance that should have never happened again.

The Holy Grail War.

Fifty years too early and in spite of Kiritsugu's plan to move the leylines with high caliber explosives, the Grail War was about to begin again. The bloody conflict that his father had told him about, albeit not in every single detail, was again looming of over the city of Fuyuki and the threatening the world at large with its aftermath.

Damn it! He should have convinced Kiritsugu to tell him more about the Fourth War, but his foster father hadn't wanted to talk about it too much. He'd said that it wasn't something that would happen again, and his optimism was coming back to bite him in the ass posthumously.

Shirou was utterly unprepared. His fighting skills were not up to such a challenge, and his Thaumaturgy was a joke compared to other Magi and all the more so in the face of the Heroic Spirits that would be summoned for the conflict.

Would the tragedy that turned the city to ashes happen again? Was the curse of Angra Mainyu still lingering inside the Grail or did the light of Excalibur purify it? Could he prevent it from spilling and consume the world as it almost did once already?

He was too weak still too weak, but that wasn't the time to lose himself in such negative thoughts. In order to deal with the oncoming menace he had to face the current issues first. At least he now had a plan and more information on his opponent than what Vincent had on him.

According to the Servant, Tohsaka wasn't out of commission either though there was little chance that she could do something more than escape seeing how the effects of Rule of Blood had sealed most of her abilities. Thanks to Caster's betrayal he had obtained a critical amount of knowledge and with that he had developed more than one way to deal with her Master.

Many ways, yes, but with a single destination, one final result: Vincent Guilford's death

It was a necessary step to permanently free Tohsaka and Yukiko from the power of his Rule of Blood. It didn't matter how much he disliked killing. Guilford wasn't an innocent he needed to protect. He was someone who willingly hurt, manipulated and killed others for his own selfish greed. He was one incarnation of the very evil he had sworn to defeat. The list of his victims was already too long to count according to the Servant and by the impression given by his Craft.

_'No more,'_ he swore silently to himself. No more victims, no more innocent deaths. This time for sure… without fail…

**_- I'll save everyone! –_**

* * *

><p>It took him almost fifteen minutes, but when Vincent heard his four Chimeras growling louder as they were about to turn a corner, he knew that his target was near. Their steps became more careful, circumspect in response to a threat that wasn't too far away from his position. He knew his creations well enough to judge the distance of his guest by the amount of aggressiveness they expressed, and he could estimate that he was about fifteen meters away from him. Basically, just halfway down the next corridor.<p>

When he finally turned the corner he wasn't surprised to see his quarry standing where he had estimated him to be, but he certainly was about his behavior.

He simply stood there in the middle of the corridor as if basking in the moonlight that flooded the hallway through the many windows that lined the wall. His hand was lightly gripping the hilt of his still sheathed sword, but there was no easiness in his posture. His presence was undeniable, the enmity flowing from his seemingly relaxed stance as cold as ice. And, above all, Guilford noticed the one thing that couldn't possibly be ignored: his eyes.

Golden steel.

There weren't other ways to describe them. They shone so brightly behind that black mask of his that they seemed to put the moonlight to shame.

Vincent was a great number of things: arrogant, conceited, sexist, greedy, and ambitious…but not a fool. Of all the disparaging attributes he could claim to his name, fool wasn't one of them. He knew at that very moment that he couldn't have that boy as a part of his army. That no matter what happened he couldn't hope to bend that steel. Break perhaps, but not bend. He didn't know what had forged it, what sort of resolve could shape that unwavering gaze, but Vincent knew one thing with absolute certainty: only one would walk away alive from this encounter.

Answering an unspoken command, two Chimeras leaped forward. Their purpose: to end the life of the trespasser that dared to endanger their maker existence.

* * *

><p>Shirou stepped forward, tightening the grip on the still sheathed Monohoshizao. The two creatures were closing in and would be on him in a matter of seconds. Getting the right timing was an absolute requirement, and in spite of his lack of swordsmanship he was strangely confident in the outcome.<p>

As if calling to him Shirou made a step forward with the foot opposite to his sword and drew it from its resting place in one smooth move. Monohoshizao hissed menacingly and cut through flesh and bones with an ease that Shirou couldn't find surprising.

Blood sprayed parallel to the ground, splattering on the walls and windows with a wet sound. The now four halves of the Chimeras ended their flight well behind him, twitching madly as they tried helplessly to carry on with the orders they received.

_'What is this?'_ Shirou asked himself as he watched a drop of blood falling from the tip of his blade. There was a new feeling growing in him. A sense of expectation that he didn't know before that moment, further enhanced by the ominous felling that Monohoshizao seemed to exude at all times. _'I can do it. With this sword… I can cut through anything.'_

With this newfound certainty swelling in his heart he calmly took another step forward, turning Monohoshizao backward and to the side, a position that wouldn't hinder his advance and that was halfway for lateral swing.

The next came much faster than the previous and he managed to read the surprise in Guilford's eyes when he was almost leaped in his face. Only the expected intervention of yet another Chimera saved the foreign Magus' life, who hastily backpedaled to a safer position while his creatures, now a lot more prudent with their opponent were keeping Shirou busy.

"Tch!" the white clad Master grunted, clearly astounded by his opponent level of skill. "AWAKEN!"

His shout echoed thought the halls accompanied by a burst of Prana that Shirou didn't. Just like Caster had said he would do when cornered, Guilford wasn't going to take any chances. Once it was made clear that engaging directly was too dangerous he would employ the entirety of his beastly army.

Of course Shirou wasn't enough of a fool to believe he could take a force of around fifty creatures on his own. He was good, better than he thought he would with a sword, but he was still overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Time to put the plan into motion.

Instead of pursuing after the retreating Magus, Shirou turned around and run down the corridor, with the two remaining Chimeras following in hot pursuit.

* * *

><p>Vincent stopped short of breath with his back leaning against the wall only when the first wave of his army run past him and toward the menace.<p>

"Damn it," he swore under his breath. "How can a normal person be that strong?"

"Master," Caster called materializing by his side. "I could take care of this nuisance in matter of second if only you'd let me."

"Feh," he snorted putting some distance between him and her. "Let me guess, it would take just a little more power from me, wouldn't it? Don't make me laugh, Caster. Do you really think I'd give you more Prana than this, when with enough power your Noble Phantasm could easily rescind our contract? Don't make me laugh, Witch. I can take care of this problem myself. Now be gone."

"… As you wish, Master," she acknowledged softly before vanishing again.

With his breath now back under control, Guilford stood upright once more and moved to follow his target. With most of his army now deployed he would definitely overwhelm Archer. Even if he would lose a few units he could always make more.

Perhaps if only he had paid a little more attention to his surrounding he would have noticed the small rune on the wall, drawn in blood right where he had rested his back a few moments earlier. If he did, the outcome of the entire night might have been entirely different.

* * *

><p><strong>"GRAAAARRRWWWW!"<strong>

The beastly roar echoed throughout the entire basement, almost making Rin jump out of her skin. The chilling roar was immediately followed by the sound of countless feet coming in her direction and a moment later several creatures rushed past her cell. There were too many to count but it looked like Guilford had taken out the big guns to deal with his unexpected guest.

That was the moment she had been waiting for. While Yukiko was pressed against the wall out of her cell to allow the creatures the space they needed, Rin opened her mouth and without hesitation she stuck two fingers down her throat. As expected her stomach churned in response, emptying its contents in front of her feet. The wet splattering sound was broken by a louder clinking noise.

Four bright jewels rolled in the half digest liquid.

"That was so inelegant," Rin commented wiping her mouth with a handkerchief from her pocket. "And disgusting," she added as an afterthought. Inelegant, yes, but effective. Hiding her jewels on her body was all good and fine but any Magus who knew anything about the Tohsaka family Craft would immediately separate her from her jewels if they managed to capture her.

Hiding some _in her body_, charmed so that they would continue their trip down her digestive trait was an extreme last resort she wasn't proud of, but it came in handy in this kind of situations. She would never show it to her father if he was still alive or she would have been up for a serious lecture on the principle of her family.

Meanwhile, the rush of beasts had finished and Rin took advantage of Yukiko temporarily getting away from her cell to check on the situation to use the first of her jewels in the only way that made sense.

"**_Sprengkraft!_**" she announced, throwing the jewel while shielding her face with the other arm.

The metal bars exploded violently in a burst of flames, sending debris against the opposite wall and flooding the corridor with thick smoke.

"Rin! What have you done?" she heard Yukiko ask. Rin didn't bother answering the brainwashed girl. There was nothing she could do for her without having access to her Circuits. The best way to help her friend was getting the hell out of there and back in town. With Vincent busy with the unknown intruder, she was certain she could do it easily.

She was wrong.

She barely had time to move to the side before a fist brushed past her head, slamming against a wall with enough strength to crack the stone.

"Naughty Rin," Yukiko chuckled. "You really shouldn't have tried something like that. Now I'll have to hurt you a little or Master Vincent won't be happy with me."

"Tsk. Reinforcement?"

It was something she had feared. Since Yukiko was a normal person, Vincent wouldn't have assigned her as Rin's warden without giving her an enhancement of some kind. Rule of Blood spontaneously reinforced its host to perform its duties to the best of its capacity.

"Yes," Yukiko chirped happily. "This is the power Master Vincent gave me to serve him better. Do you like it?"

"Not really," she answered flatly. "Don't worry Yukiko. I'm going to free you from that man's grasp very soon."

"Now, now, Rin. Master Vincent would be really angry with me if I let you do such a thing. I'm afraid I'll have to drag you back to him so that you can ask forgiveness for breaking the room he gave you." She lashed at Rin with more speed than she should have been able to.

And found an elbow buried in the stomach for her trouble.

Yukiko fell to her knees holding her stomach with both hands. Rin didn't waste any time pointing out how being a little Reinforced didn't grant any fighting skill. Yukiko's body was faster and stronger than Rin's, but she telegraphed her moves so badly that an amateur fighter could have dodged her blows. For somebody like Rin, who had been practicing martial arts since she was a child, besting Yukiko really wasn't that much of a challenge.

Still, having to hit Yukiko actually hurt Rin more than it did her friend. Another sin to lie at Guilford's feet when she got around to handing out her punishment…assuming that he wouldn't meet his fate at the hand of the intruder.

And speaking of the intruder: who could it be? Somebody with grudge against Guilford? Another Master, perhaps? For a moment she even thought it could be Emiya, but she soon discarded that thought. No matter how skilled he was in combat, he was still a normal human. Faced with the Mysteries of any Magus he would be unable to respond appropriately. Guilford was sure it wasn't another Magus, but who could force him to deploy such a numerous force if not another practitioner of the Craft?

No matter who it was, she couldn't rely on that person to get her out of there. If it turned out to be another Master, her fate was likely to get only more gruesome if they found her there. She'd have to get out with her own strength.

"Rin, stop right there," Yukiko shouted behind her.

"Not a chance," she shot back without turning around.

Good. If Yukiko followed her out Rin wouldn't have to worry about her being harmed by Guilford 's other enemy. It was time to say goodbye to that wretched place.

* * *

><p>Shirou ran with the Chimeras following close behind, just as planned. All things considered, even if he had more battle experience than the average Magus his opponent had the advantage of territory and superior number on his side. Well, the former would soon turn on the latter if everything went according to his plan.<p>

He ran toward the stairs to the third floor, but didn't get halfway there before the first group of beasts intercepted him from the side.

_'How fast,'_ he thought slashing at the first unlucky creature that got in range. He didn't even notice how easily he was using the sword in his hand, something that shouldn't have been possible without extensive training. But he was too busy dodging his enemies to lose himself in other thoughts.

Suddenly he found himself facing a group of beasts coming from right ahead while the group behind was rapidly getting closer.

"Screw it," he growled as he accelerated toward the group in front of him. As he was about to slam against them he quickly jumped upward and to the side. Stepping against the wall to his left he then jumped a second time in the air, sailing above the Chimeras, which were forced to stop in their tracks to turn in the opposite direction. It was too bad that their attempts were severely hindered by the other group that, unable or unwilling to slow down their pursuit, ended up crashing against the other ending in a messed pile of limbs.

It was almost comical how they tried to stand up again only to trip on each other and fall again. Shirou didn't consider stopping to enjoy the outcome of his handiwork, busy as he was with yet another pack of Chimeras coming from the side. The situation was getting worse by the minute, but the stairs were already in sight. With one last dash he climbed up three steps at a time.

* * *

><p>'<em>Cornered<em>,' Vincent thought as he watched Archer disappear over the stairs. The third floor wasn't like the other two. It was basically a single huge floor that he created after removing the needless wall. It was a room he created to draw the complex Runic Circles that he used to perform his rituals.

Up there he no longer had places to hide, nor corridors to outmaneuver the Chimeras. With so many on his side in such an open space, making short work of the vigilante was an absolute certainty.

"Devour him," he commanded. The creatures that had stayed back immediately rushed after their similar, leaving Vincent with just a handful of them as a personal guard. Not a minute later, a feeling of dread began taking hold over him. What was taking them so much? Skilled as he was, a single human shouldn't be too much of a problem for so many beasts. Even another Magus would have a hard time dealing with them.

The he heard it, the sound of glass breaking above him that signaled something he hadn't expected. He saw Archer fall down from the third floor, something Vincent considered a suicide move…for about half a second that is. Almost in slow motion he watched the vigilante cocking an arrow on his bow. The round shape of its head changed to a pointed one.

_'Alteration,'_ he realized, suddenly hit by the full weight of its implication. The arrow broke through the window and whizzed past him, burying its head in the wall behind him. For a moment, a short naïve moment he actually believed that a person who carried the nickname of Archer could have missed such a shot.

The ridiculousness of this line of thought was revealed to him a second later, when the heavily Prana-charged projectile discharged its energy, lighting up a series of runes on every visible wall. There were too many to have been written by a single person in a short amount of time. Only in that moment did Vincent realize how well he had been played.

"Caster," was the only curse he managed to grow before the walls around him imploded and the ceiling crumbled upon him with thunderous roar.

* * *

><p><strong><span>A minute earlier – Third floor<span>**

Shirou reached the third floor but didn't stop running. He had caught a glimpse of Guilford but didn't try to get at him or taunt him to follow. So long as he was at least on the second floor the end result of his plan would take him down too.

In the open space of the floor he was now on, the Chimeras flanked him on both sides, rushing past him and surrounding him entirely. It would have been a pretty fucked up situation if it weren't exactly what he had planned for. He could count over forty creatures, which meant almost everyone according to Caster's information. Now that they were all gathered, he could deal with them and their master in one fell swoop.

Shirou sheathed his sword and exhaled, ignoring completely the menacing growl of the creatures that got progressively and cautiously closer. The moment for him to break through was the same as theirs.

**"Trace on!"** he announced loudly and the Chimeras took it as their cue to finally tear him apart. What followed would have looked like a scene out of a ninja movie.

Shirou jumped upward and the Chimeras followed. He kicked one and used it as a stepping-stone to push himself away. Another leapt at him and its efforts were rewarded with a swift kick to the face. More and more jumped at him, trying to pin his body and drag him down where they would rip him to shreds. For his part, Shirou focused everything into dodging.

Well, not exactly dodging. Air stepping would be a more appropriate description. For the next twenty seconds Shirou didn't touch the floor, bouncing against the walls, columns or the leaping beasts. Finally, with his target in sight he took advantage of yet another monster to propel himself with both feet toward the large window behind a ritualistic altar. The glass exploded in a guttering shower of minuscule shards, but he paid it no mind.

As he fell to the ground, Shirou twisted in midair and with the smoothness that came with countless hours of practice he grabbed his arrow and changed and charged it as planned. He poured every drop of Mana he managed to gather from the environment and his own Od into that single projectile. The arrow grew and… _broke_, acquiring almost a scaly aspect.

He only managed to catch a glimpse of Guilford as he released it, but the expression of utter surprise he read on his face gave him a single satisfying thought.

_'Gotcha, you son of a bitch.'_

And then the arrow struck, unloading the energy into the rune array that Caster had drawn for him. The walls literally imploded and with a groan the roof and the third floor collapsed on the second, burying Guilford and his twisted army under tons of debris.

Victory was his.

-oOo-

The ground shook and dirt fell from several places in the underground ceiling.

"What the…?" Rin wondered as she struggled to maintain her balance. She didn't stop to contemplate what might have caused the earthquake since it was fairly obvious that whatever drama was unfolding upstairs had probably escalated considerably if it had managed to effect the structure beneath the ground.

Getting as far away as possible was beginning to sound more and more like a good idea. With Yukiko still chasing after her she dove into a door that opened on a long narrow corridor. Judging by the length it had to extend far beyond the supposed perimeter of the house. If luck was still on her side, it would probably led to an exit above the ground.

Hearing the approaching footsteps of her friend-turned-pursuer, Rin sprinted even faster down the dark barely lit corridor.

* * *

><p>Medea watched from the edge of the property as the house collapsing on itself, burying her Master and his wretched creatures under its ruins. The plan had gone as smoothly as possible, and she had to recognize that the Magus boy had a decent mind that made up for his lack of talent in the field of Magecraft.<p>

Truly, using his limited energies to collapse the _territory_ on the _army_ proved to be an efficient course of action. The act of using an opponent's chosen field of battle against him was something she didn't even begin to consider and it proved that the boy possessed a mind wired for combat that her Master lacked completely. Vincent preferred to rely entirely on the alleged superiority of his Magecraft, overwhelming his opponents with numbers.

His arrogance ultimately proved to be his undoing, but in spite of that she had to at least recognize that he was tenacious. Her contract with him was still active, which meant that under that pile of rubble he was still alive. How he managed such a feat she didn't know. Perhaps she had underestimated him a bit too much, and to make matters worse he had to have realized her involvement in this situation.

The likelihood of him using a Command Seal to force her into obedience was still significant, and if the worst-case scenario came to pass she would be forced to use her Noble Phantasm on herself. The energy required to break the contract was bound to leave her nearly depleted. She wouldn't last more than a few hours after that, but what did it matter at that point?

If the only other option was to be used, abused and finally consumed she would rather go down of her own volition. Suicide was an extremely preferable option to living in servitude to a person she despised utterly. Perhaps if things had gone differently she might have tried her hand in the coming conflict, but she would never accept being bound to another against her will.

And judging by the look of things she would have to intervene directly sooner than later.

* * *

><p>Shirou landed on his feet and rolled on the ground, nullifying the momentum of his fall. His reinforced body was more than capable of sustaining the force of a fall from that height, but his engrained training didn't require him to think for such things and his body merely acted as conditioned.<p>

Kiritsugu was crap as a teacher as far as Thaumaturgy was concerned, but nothing could be said about his prowess with tactics and general fighting skills. The plan of dropping the enemy base on top of them was something that Shirou took straight out of his father's book, seeing how it used to be one of his favorite tactics back in the day. Sure, he had to rely on Caster's cooperation because he didn't pack any explosives with him that night (not that he usually did), but in the end it worked just fine.

He felt the need to chuckle when he thought back at her expression when he told her of his plan.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Twenty minutes earlier<span>**

_"You want me to do what?" the hooded woman asked. She was clearly annoyed by the fact that Shirou was telling her that he couldn't do what she asked without her help._

_"You heard me. I need you to compromise the integrity of the second floor walls and columns with runes while reinforcing the first."_

_"Boya, what are you planning to do? Vincent is extremely arrogant, but not a fool. He would immediately notice if I tried to pull any Prana from our contract. Do you want him to use a Command Seal on me?"_

_"No," he replied immediately, "The only thing I need is for you to draw an inert array. I'll take care of powering it up myself."_

_"Do you want to die so badly? Or do you think you have more chance at surviving the collapse more than he does?"_

_"Uh? Even I'm not that reckless. I don't intend to be anywhere inside the mansion when it goes down?"_

_"Then please, do tell how you plan to active the rune array."_

_"I have… more arrows to my bow than you would expect," he said. And he meant it literally._

_Caster seemed to ponder his expression through his mask for a long stretching moment before giving the tiniest of nods._

_"Very well," she conceded. "I have to trust that you know what you are doing, otherwise the point of this alliance would be moot. I'll return as soon as I'm done."_

_And then she disappeared into thin air, reinforcing Shirou's thought that she wasn't actually in the room with him but merely projecting an image from a distance. He didn't have to wait long. As expected from the Caster class, drawing a mere rune array without actually powering it up was something easier than breathing and she returned no longer than five minutes later. Actually, given enough knowledge just about anyone could do it but the Caster class could perform the task fast, flawlessly and without the need to double check._

_"It is done," she confirmed, reappearing from the shadows._

_"I'll be on my way then," he said giving one last glance at the woman before leaving the room as silently as he entered it, secretly hoping that his plan would work as well as he imagined it._

* * *

><p><strong><span>Present time<span>**

For once in his life, his plan worked spectacularly. The upper floors went down immediately while the first held strong. It would have been horrible if the entire structure had collapsed on Tohsaka and Yukiko after all. But it worked, even if he was left completely drained. Considering the disproportion in overall offensive strength he came out on top and without a scratch.

All he had to do now was get his friends out of the basement, hopefully without being seen. He would have a hard time feigning ignorance about Thaumaturgy if he managed to take down a Magus and all his familiars. No way she'd buy any story that implied he wasn't a Magus himself. He'd have to be really, really circumspect if he didn't want to be put on the spot.

He headed back toward the house when he noticed something entirely out of place. The four hypnotized men in front of the house were still there drooling dumbly. They should have recovered or passed out from the backlash caused by Guilford's death. If they weren't, then…

**"I have you now, you little shit."**

He heard the voice just a moment before something wrapped around his left leg with so much strength that his bones would have cracked had he had not been Reinforced. He didn't have the time to move or protest before his body was flung into the air like a twig and impacted with his back against the sturdy stone walls that surrounded the mansion.

"Gragh!" He protested as the air was forced out of his lungs. His vision went white and he had to focus all his might to resist immediately passing out. He watched through hazed eyes a red… whip-like thing that he realized was blood retreating from his body like a living being. Actually the entire upper part of the once luxurious mansion was tainted with dripping blood, no doubt leaking from the crushed bodies of many Chimeras.

Oh, no. No, that wasn't just bad. That was extremely, extremely fucked up.

The blood stopped dripping down the wall and began crawling up instead, flowing between the rubble until nothing was left. Then the pile of debris began to shake and move until an… arm burst out of the top.

Vincent Guilford stood on the ruins of his mansion. His clothes were tattered and disheveled; his once well groomed hair now completely ruffed up. But of course, that was a minor change compared to the rest of his body. In seemed that in order to survive, Vincent Guilford had been forced to push his Craft in a direction previously unexplored.

Both his arms were gone, replaced by furry appendages that were still twisting with sickening crunching noise as they shifted from their original animal form to a shape more reminiscent of human limbs. His legs too were in a similar state, though he didn't seem to bother with turning their articulation into the proper frontward position as was proper for every human being. Through the once immaculate white shirt, now opened in half, Shirou could see several scars healing at an accelerated rate.

He had replaced the parts of his body too damaged with other salvageable parts from the many creatures that died in the collapse.

"Look at what you've done, you shitty brat," he growled with a voice that was no longer human. "Look at what you forced me to become. My body… my perfect body… ruined by a third rate Magus such as yourself."

"Ghh…" Shirou mumbled, getting back on his shaky feet.

"But it's okay," Vincent chuckled. "It's partially my fault, after all. I seriously, seriously underestimated the circumstances. I believed that no Magus would lower himself to use mundane methods, even in this barbaric country, and I really overlooked my Servant's lack of respect for far too long. My oversight. I'll rectify my mistakes immediately. STARTING WITH YOU!"

He disappeared from Shirou's line of sight with the speed granted by those monstrous limbs. He realized where he had moved only when he felt his claws screech against the still Reinforced structure of his mask, that saved him from having his face carved out.

He rolled on the ground using the strength of the blow he received, shaking his head to get rid of the cobwebs that hazed it. It wasn't time to be shocked of the series of events. He had to come up with a plan immediately.

As Guilford appeared in front of him, Shirou slashed with Monohoshizao but the other Magus simply ducked beneath the swing before returning with a powerful uppercut. It was only thanks to the experience that came from hundreds of hours spent in getting beaten shitless by Kuzuki that Shirou managed to roll with the punch and avoid having his head separated from his shoulders by the vicious blow. Back flipping in midair, he landed and dashed forward, already bringing Monohoshizao forward for another strike.

Guilford retaliated by stepping inside of his guard and wrapping his arm around Shirou's, efficiently blocking the weapon along with it. With no chance to move, Shirou could only suffer under the series of blows that the foreign Magus unleashed on him.

"Ooops," Vincent said letting him fall backward. "I shouldn't go overboard. I have need to keep your body as intact as possible, after all."

"What..?" Shirou groaned through gritted teeth. The effect of his Reinforcement was slowly being eroded. He couldn't take too many hits before his body returned to its natural level of resistance, which meant instant death in those circumstances.

"I have to admit that your physical condition is top notch. Your body will certainly be a suitable replacement for my own. Don't worry, I'll make good use of it. In fact, I believe that I'll be testing those strong arms and legs of yours with our mutual friend. Heh heh heh."

"Y-you… bastard."

"Oh, I have been called worse, trust me. Anyway, I think I'll have some fun before dissecting you for parts."

And that was all the warning Shirou received before the world exploded in pain.

* * *

><p>Dojima was almost dozing when he heard the rumble from behind the trees and a cloud of barely visible smoke rose in the moonlit sky.<p>

"What the fu-?"

The noise coming from the mansion in the forest sounded too much like a building collapsing. No way that anything short of that could make so much noise. All right, if that didn't give him enough of an excuse to at least check out the place he didn't know what would. Checking his gun once more, he started running down the path between the trees.

* * *

><p>Rin pushed the heavy door at the end of the corridor and entered what looked like a dried up well. Quickly, she began climbing up the ladder on the wall she was almost halfway to the exit when she felt a hand wrap around her leg.<p>

"I've got you," Yukiko exulted. "Now we are going to return to UGH!" She exclaimed when Rin's other foot struck her in the face

"Sorry about that, Yuki-chan," Rin said hastily but sincerely. She didn't like hurting her friend, especially because she wasn't in control of her actions but now wasn't time to be shy. If, in order to help her friend she had to hurt her first, well, she could live with that.

With one last exhalation of effort, she reached the top and pushed open the grid top that prevented people from accidentally falling into the hole. She found herself in the middle of a forest, hopefully the one near Fuyuki.

"Rin, wait," she heard Yukiko calling for her from the bottom of the well. She didn't bother answering, but instead started running once more in a direction that she considered being opposite to the mansion, sincerely hoping she didn't get lost among the trees.

* * *

><p>A rag doll; Shirou couldn't find a better way to call himself in the current circumstances. In hindsight he should have seen it coming. All the Prana that Guilford employed to simultaneously control his creatures was now entirely at his disposal and he was using it to Reinforce his body without care.<p>

Why should he care, after all? Even if his arms and legs broke to the point that his healing factor couldn't repair them any longer, he could still easily change them with others. There was no point in worrying about any after effect.

Shirou had tried to put up some sort of resistance, and while he definitely surpassed Vincent in skills alone he couldn't keep up with his speed or strength without the use of his own Reinforcement. That taught him how stupid it was to not have a contingency plan. Eradicating yourself of energy was a successful tactic only if you had time to rest between fights.

Damn it, _damn it_, **damn it**! He couldn't die yet. Not without killing Vincent first. If the man lived, then Tohsaka and Yukiko would be forever prisoners of his power and _that_ was something that Shirou couldn't allow.

Finally, it seemed that Vincent had grown tired of playing with such an unresponsive doll and kicked him in the stomach with enough force to slam him against the wall a few meters away.

He had lost. The world was going dark and blood was filling his vision and mouth. Monohoshizao was beginning to slip from his grasp.

"No!" he growled in defiance, tightening his grip around the hilt. He couldn't afford to give up. For as long as he could draw a single breath, he would advance, no matter the cost. He pulled himself to a straight position, breathing heavily under the strain of simply standing upright.

He lifted Monohoshizao to his face, perpendicular to the ground and with the edge turned upward. He could see his beaten up reflection on the smooth surface of the metal. It was the image of someone about to drop dead; pitiful, pathetic, and certainly not the hero he aspired to be.

But being a true hero went beyond good looks. To be a hero he had to unrelentingly push ahead, and that knowledge showed in his eyes. But what could he do? He was completely spent. He didn't have a single drop of Od to start up the simplest spell in his body. The only thing he had left was the sword in his hands.

He lost himself in his reflection on the blood stained blade. He watched it with such a transfixed intensity that he seemed to look through it, or perhaps into the very soul of the sword.

…

…. _Sword?_

… … … … … … … _Sword?_

* * *

><p>Well, at least he still had the Tohsaka girl and he realized just how correct he had been in not trusting his Servant. Speaking of which…<p>

"Caster."

"Yes, Master?" she answered, appearing a few meters behind him.

"Your participation in this attempt on my life is inexcusable. You have to be punished."

"Master, I…"

"Caster… **_SUFFER_****!**"

* * *

><p>Caster's mind went blank. Her entire existence exploded in a storm of pain the likes of which she never experienced before. Her body was racked under the absolute torment enforced by the Command Seal.<p>

She had underestimated the pride and pettiness of her Master. She didn't think that he would waste one Seal just to punish her, but it appeared that wounding his ego in any manner was enough to override any measure of common sense he still had. No, she definitely hadn't seen that coming.

She gasped for air but her body was too tense to do anything but dig her nails into the dirt beneath her. Screaming wasn't an option. Thinking wasn't even remotely possible.

"Gggghrrrrggggg!" was the only sound that escaped her throat.

She would not beg, she would never beg that disgusting man for release. Even if the pain broke her again and again she would never give him the satisfaction of seeing her ask for forgiveness. Never. Never, NEVER!

She had to do it. She had to use Rule Breaker even if the backlash of breaking the contract while under the effect of a Command Seal annihilated her.

* * *

><p>Vincent grinned at the sight of the treacherous Caster writhing on the ground like the worm she was. At that point he didn't care for the waste of a Command Seal. Heck, if he didn't transplant it from what was left of his hand he would have lost control of her altogether.<p>

The price to restore his pride and his dominance over his misbehaving Servant was steep but necessary. That punishment would ensure that she wouldn't try something like that ever again and when she had outlived her usefulness he would use his last Command Seals to really dominate her into submission before using the Servant summoned by Rin to eliminate her.

No one _–no one-_ could humiliate him in such a manner and get away with it. He could have spent the rest of the night enjoying his handiwork, but another sound drew his attention.

Archer was back on his shaky feet again. If anything, his persistence merited praise. He would make sure to use that nice resistance and stamina after he transplanted his limbs. In any case, it was time to put an end to his struggle.

"It has been fun," he said walking toward the unsteady vigilante. "But I really have to cut it short. Now I-"

He froze. His body could no longer advance when Archer stopped shaking and the sword rose menacingly to his face-level. Vincent didn't know much about swords in general. Sure there were some nice Mystic Codes in the shape of swords, but he really never took an interest in them. One of his acquaintances at the Clock Tower had a borderline obsession with blades of all kinds, and had once spent an entire lunch going over their beauty. What he recalled most from that conversation was the so-called Sentience of Steel: a form of minor sentience that ancient blades developed over the course of many battles. Vincent hadn't given much credit to that notion, but in that very specific moment he had to reconsider his initial opinion.

The sword shined ominously under the moon, emanating a feeling of impending death that Vincent couldn't deny. It was almost ridiculous how Archer's battered form seemed to be held by the sword instead of the opposite.

It was dangerous. So dangerous that he didn't dare get closer… but he also realized that if he just stood there, then Archer would come at him. He needed to act immediately.

"Caster, enough with the punishment. Come here and –NO!"

He had barely turned around to address his Servant when he saw the glint of light coming from the tip of the serpentine blade. He didn't have time to react before the knife fell and pierced the Servant's chest with the expected results.

Vincent left hand burned, and the mark of his Command Seals faded away, denied by the nullification power of his (now former) Servant's Noble Phantasm.

"You bitch!" he snarled, moving to kick her still weakened form, but immediately stopped in his tracks when he heard the voice behind him.

**_"I am…"_**

* * *

><p><em>... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … _Statics… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … <em> Sword

__Statics… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ….. ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … _Swor Sword _ Sword Sword _ Sword _

… __Statics… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …. … … .. … … … … … … … .. … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … _Sword Sword Sword _ _ Sword _ Sword _ _ Sword Sword _Sword Sword _ Sword _ Sword _ Sword _ Sword _ Sword Sword Sword _ Sword _ Sword _ Sword Sword _ Sword _ Sword _ Sword _ Sword _ Sword Sword Sword Sword _ Sword Sword _ Sword _ Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword _ Sword Sword Sword _ Sword Sword Sword Sword _ Sword Sword _ Sword Sword _ Sword Sword Sword _ Sword Sword Sword _ Sword Sword _ Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword Sword

**!SWORD!**

* * *

><p><strong><em>" I am the bone of my Sword."<em>**

The words were spoken by his mouth, but they came from a place far more distant and yet exceedingly close. They meant nothing to the world at large but they meant everything to him. He couldn't quite comprehend the magnitude of such a declaration, but he could feel it nonetheless. It was like a switch had been turned on inside of him.

He _knew_ it likeithad always been his even though it hadn't. It was like he was the one who had spent days, weeks, months, years practicing, chasing after something that was supposed to be impossible. Unreachable.

With hands that weren't his, with a sword that was not his own and with skills that he didn't hone, he cut through that which was not meant to be cut. It had taken an entire lifetime, but he did it nonetheless. Such a superb technique would no doubt transcend the ages and become legend.

As such, it needed a name that embodied its sprit, beauty and grace. Of course, considering what had inspired it, it could only be named….

* * *

><p><strong>"TSUBAME GAESHI!"<strong>

Vincent barely had time to acknowledge that something was happening but couldn't understand exactly what. He saw Archer step toward him, steel in his hands and in his eyes. His sword came, filled with killing intent, from the side to behead him in one fell swoop. It was too fast to dodge, he realized grimly. The only chance he had was to sacrifice his arm to slow the blade before lashing out to kill the annoying bastard.

He put his very expendable limb in the path of the coming blade, but felt no pain when the sword cut through it. No, not cut. It just passed through like it didn't have any mass. Like an… illusion. He turned to the right, just in time to see another blade materializing from thin air like a ghost. He promptly put his other arm in the way, but that too served no purpose as the illusory sword went through without a scratch.

He almost felt silly for a moment so short that his brain didn't even register it. The sound of cut flesh and splattering blood reached his ears and he stared in dumb confusion at the blade digging into his neck, having undoubtedly struck from… behind?

He tried to stop it, to use his hand to block its course but he was too slow. With his own accelerated perception he saw the blade complete its swing. The taste of his own blood filled his mouth. Oddly, he noticed that he didn't like it so much.

He saw the ground getting closer and closer as he rolled in an odd way before stopping a few meters away.

_'Ah,'_ he thought, _'is that my body?'_

Indeed it was. He watched in morbid fascination as his still standing body wobbled and fell backward with a loud thump, blood spraying all over the stump of his neck. He tried to focus but his mind felt so dull and distant.

No, he couldn't just give up, could he? With his Rule of Blood attaching his head should be an easy… easy…easy… easy… eeea-

….

* * *

><p>Medea gasped for air. She didn't really need the oxygen to exist but the reaction to the sudden realease from couldn't be helped. Her body still ached but she knew it wouldn't subside. She had used too much energy to break the Command Seal and she was now on the verge of disappearing.<p>

_'At least I can watch Vincent die,'_ she thought as she saw the Magus boy approaching her former Master menacingly with his katana.

**"TSUBAME GAESHI!" **he shouted as he charged.

The blade swung fast. Faster than what she thought humanly possible but what captivated her attention was the blade attacking from the sides at the same time. The first two blows passed through Guilford's body like mere illusions but the third, the one coming from behind, reached his neck and mercilessly cut through it. His head rolled on the ground and his body toppled backward spraying blood from the stump of his neck.

Vincent Guilford died with a surprised expression on his face. His death had been far too painless considered the circumstances but she couldn't complain. She had managed to get back at him from his transgression in her regards and that was all that mattered in the end.

The only thing she regretted was having missed a chance to fight. Even though her wish couldn't be realized she still wanted to take a stand against her fate. Alas, that was not to be. She still could try to take her energy from the heavily gasping Magus boy, who was eyeing his sword as if he was surprised by the very technique he used to kill Vincent.

He was at his limits, but so was she. She didn't have the strength to force herself on him and devour him. Amongst Servants she was the least physically strong, even below Assassin. Her power was in her spells, but she didn't have the energy to even start one up. If she, did her body would disappear before she was even halfway through it.

Gathering what little energy she still had left she stood up again.

"Well," she said to the recovering boy. "It seems that our alliance has reached a conclusion."

"Are… are you all right?"

Concern? For her? How amusing.

"As fine as I can be. My Master is dead, and my time in this world is short."

"… What happened to Tohsaka and Yukiko? What about the others?" he asked.

"Your friends left the property a few minutes ago and with Vincent's death they should have returned to normal. The four men are just some random men that live nearby. If you really care I think I can make them return to their homes by themselves. Tomorrow they'll wake up without recalling a single thing. Consider it payment for your cooperation."

Shirou nodded in appreciation. He wasn't sure he could deal with four witnesses as he was.

"What… what are you going to do now?"

"Who knows? Perhaps I shall watch the sun rise on the sea one last time. I have enough energy to do that at least."

"Wait…" the boy called out to her, but she simply slipped into spirit form and left. Her business with him was concluded, and he had already turned down her proposition to make a contract with her. Without the power to impose himself on him there was no reason to stay. Without looking back, she passed the gates and headed toward the city to fulfill her last whimsical wish.

* * *

><p>"Wait…" he said to the female Servant, but she paid him no mind and simply disappeared with a mystical sound. "Damn it."<p>

She was gone. Whatever question he had would go unanswered. He had plenty of them, but first….

"Ghaaawrg!" he fell on his knees and emptied the contents of his stomach. He had killed a man. He had cut his head from his shoulder like a hot knife through butter. He had killed a person: in self defense, in defense of others but he had still killed nonetheless. A man died by his hands. It was no accident like that time with Sasaki. He had moved with the intent to kill, and that intent turned into reality.

He was now a killer, someone who had taken the life of another. There was no way around that notion. At least… at least Tohsaka and Yukiko were safe now.

How did he do it though? The technique he used wasn't something he had even heard about until that moment and yet…. Yet he knew everything about it. It was a technique that violated the laws of the world by striking from three different directions at the same time. It wasn't a Magecraft or Sorcery, but merely a skill so refined that it slipped past all the conceptions that caged even supernatural strikes.

How did he know all of that? How did he manage to replicate the technique that the real Sasaki Kojirou spent his life to perfect? It was like… the sword itself had told him. No, that wasn't true. He knew from the very beginning that Monohoshizao had been used to develop that incredible technique. That information was stored into his mind since the very first time he _Grasped_ its structure because he was able to tap into that knowledge without using it again.

How? That wasn't normal, nor could it be called an after effect of his Magecraft as it was a separate phenomenon. For the first time in his life, Shirou realized that there was perhaps a deeper meaning behind his constant dreaming of swords.

However, that was a thought for another time. Taking a few deep breaths he stood back up. There was no point in dwelling over what happened. He knew that this event would haunt his dreams for a long time…but now he had other things to take care of.

* * *

><p>"Argh," Rin grunted as a shot of pain shocked her body. She nearly stumbled, but managed to steady herself against a tree.<p>

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Yukiko's scream of pain was bloodcurdling. Rin saw her trashing of the ground like she was being burned alive but all of a sudden she went limp and unmoving. Rin considered for a second that it could be a trap but the pain she had experienced a moment before told her another story.

Running to her hopefully just unconscious friend's side Rin swore to herself that if she was hurt in anyway she'd skin Guilford alive.

… Wait a minute… did she just think that? Without stopping her run to Yukiko she quickly checked herself. Behind a faint and fading numbness she could feel them again. Her Circuits were accessible again, and she could think about hurting Guilford without consequence. Rule of Blood had been deactivated, forcefully if her pain and Yukiko reaction were any indication.

She checked the girl's pulse and let out a relieved sigh when she saw she was just passed out from the backlash of Guilford's Thaumaturgy being disrupted. In all likelihood that bastard was dead, killed by whoever had snuck into his home.

It was too bad…she wanted to have her revenge from him herself, but she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides she still had other priorities, and getting away from there was still at the top. There was no telling if Guilford's killer was less of a threat than the mage had been, and she had no intention of finding out. Furthermore, Yukiko needed her help.

Even if she was free of the spell that had bound her until that moment, she would probably still remember everything that happened and Rin couldn't allow that: not only because she had to protect the secret of Magecraft but also for Yukiko's mental health. What Guilford had done to her was far worse than rape, and while she might have not believed that while under his control she definitely would when she woke up. Erasing everything about those events was the best course of action.

Reinforcing her body a little she lifted her friend on her shoulders and started walking in a random direction, again hoping not to get lost in the forest.

"Don't move!" a voice shouted behind there along with the sound of a gun being cocked. Oh, no. Had things just gone from bad to better and back to worse?

* * *

><p>"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"<p>

The high-pitched scream tore the relatively silence of the quiet forest to pieces.

Dojima wasn't a fan of horror movies. Frankly, he didn't find them even half-interesting. The plot was always the same, and the characters seemed to come from a universe where horror movies didn't exist because if they did, and they had watched at least one, they would have never walked in one of the many situations that led to a very painful and gory death.

He honestly thought that, so he felt a bit of a fool when he turned in the direction of the scream when, according to his opinion, a smart man would have walked away in the same circumstances. A cop, alone in a forest at night hears a woman's scream and goes to investigate? Yeah, if that was a movie how many viewers would bet on the detective walking back on his own two feet?

'_Not many,_ ' he thought to himself. But he still was a cop, and helping people was his job. If he wanted a life without risks he should have gone for another employment. And there he was, checking the surrounding without making any noise. There was no telling what could have happened to make a person scream like that, and if he had to find out he'd rather get the drop on whomever was on the scene.

Noticing some movement he hid behind a tree and noticed girl dressed in red rush past him and to the side of an unconscious girl. He saw her put the other girl on her shoulders with a surprising show of strength for a girl. Well, it looked like with that added weight she wouldn't try to run if he got closer.

He immediately moved out of his cover and pointed his gun for good measure.

"Don't move," he ordered and the girl froze on the spot. "Who are you and what you doing here?"

Slowly the girl turned around. He'd expected her to be scared and perhaps watchful and while the latter was true there was no trace of the former. The girl's eyes shone with a resolve that would have put grown man to shame.

Wait a moment… wasn't that Kazama Yukiko? And the other was… Tohsaka Rin if he wasn't mistaken.

His keen mind quickly caught up with at least a portion of the night's events. The girls had been kidnapped; again, in Kazama's case. Somehow, Emiya had caught wind of it and chased after the kidnappers. The girl had managed to get away, probably thanks to Archer's intervention and they were now trying to get as far away as possible.

"Who are you?" the girl asked evenly.

"Detective Dojima, Fuyuki police department. What happened here?"

The girl didn't relax even when she heard his profession, but answered nonetheless.

"We have been abducted," she explained. "We were held in a big mansion but we managed to escape. Please, you have to help us."

"Of course," he answered getting closer but without lowering his weapon. The girl rubbed him the wrong way. She was far too calm for somebody who had just been through a traumatic event. "What happened to your friend?"

"I don't know, she just fell to the ground and started screaming. Please you have to take her to a hospital."

Damn, he was so close in getting the answers he wanted but he couldn't just leave to girls in a situation like that. He'd have to return to the car and call for backup.

"My car isn't too far from here," he answered holstering his gun. "Let's get back and I'll call some reinforcement. Whomever did this isn't getting away."

"**I know…"** Tohsaka said with a strangely echoing voice. Dojima found out that he couldn't look away from her eyes. **"Take us to your car and drive us back into town."**

He nodded. That seemed like the right thing to do. Without a word he walked ahead of them to his car. When they reached it they climbed inside. He helped to put Kazama on the rear seat and then he took his place at the wheel.

"I have to call for reinforcements," he mumbled to himself.

**"There's no need for that," **Tohsaka said from her seat and he couldn't help but listen to her voice. **"Nothing happened here tonight. You just have to drive us back home. Then you can forget all about this evening."**

Yeah, that really sounded like a great idea. He started the engine and began driving back to town.

* * *

><p>Rin took a deep breath and allowed herself a moment to relax. They were getting away from the scene as fast as possible. Considering the circumstances it had been a stroke of luck stumbling on this detective, though his presence was unsettling and suspicious. She needed to find out more.<p>

**"What were you doing in that forest?" **she asked with her Prana laced voice. Mind control wasn't her field of expertise, and after being subjected to a particularly nasty version of the Craft she wasn't particularly happy with what she was doing.

"I was following a suspect," the detective, Dojima, answered. The answer was succinct but that had to be expected. That wasn't the kind of thing a police office would normally share with a stranger. She could push for more but…

**"Who was it?"**

"It was A.. I… don't…," the man eyes seemed to focus back on the situation, fighting back Rin's compulsion. "What… are you...?"

**"Nevermind, it's not really important." **Like hell it wasn't, but she immediately dropped the subject and the man returned to the depths of his trance. That was the sort of thing that could happen when a person was forced into doing or saying things against his will. Minor things could be easily accomplished through basic hypnotism, but forcing someone to reveal something they weren't comfortable with was a lot more complex.

The man was showing a degree of willpower far above the average and with her level of skill she would probably lose the control of the compulsion and he would return to his senses with many unpleasant consequences.

**"Are you involved in any way with the inhabitants of that mansion?"**

"Not to my knowledge," he told her with a shrug. That was a fair answer, actually better than a straight out no. To completely deny any connection the detective had first to know who Guilford was. His answer implied a complete lack of knowledge to whatever happened behind the walls of that place.

She wasn't fool enough to miss that, whomever this suspect was that he had been following, it was the same person who had broke into Guilford's place. He might not have known one party but what of the other? She already knew that asking for the identity of that person would likely snap the detective out of her hypnosis but she had at least one thing to clarify.

**"Does Magic exist?"**

"There's no such thing as magic," he scoffed with a smile and a still glazed expression in his eyes. Rin was pleased with his answer. Dojima probably didn't really know a thing. Maybe he knew the name of Guilford's killer or his presence had been simply an unlikely coincidence. She would have really liked to know who to thank and watch out for, but she realized that she didn't have the skill to get the name out of Dojima at the present time.

Certainly she could try to get the information later, after she expanded her repertoire in mind-affecting spells, but that would mean leaving Dojima's memories of this night intact. She couldn't afford to have a police officer suspecting her. For the sake of keeping the secret of Magic, she would have to forfeit that opportunity. It was extremely annoying but couldn't be helped.

**"Does anybody know where you were tonight? Did you leave any writing or other recording that could help make you remember that you came here later on?"**

"No... I'm not officially on duty tonight. No one knows I came here because it was a spur of the moment."

Good enough. That meant there were no other loose ends, and a simple memory wipe of past few hours would resolve the issue with Dojima. Too bad about losing the chance of finding out the identity of the other Magus but it really couldn't be done any differently. She'd have to brush up her skills on the mental manipulation field…especially the defensive kind.

On the back seat Yukiko was still unconscious. Her case was a lot more complex and would probably take the rest of the night to deal with. Her memories of the events Rin needed to erase spanned back several weeks, and they would take a great deal of effort to seal away properly. Luckily she had supposedly been unconscious most of the time during her kidnapping, and while that was probably a cover story made up by Guilford it worked to Rin's favor at this point. Erasing memories she wasn't supposed to have in the first place would help insure that her friend didn't go looking for them. It was a small consolation, if nothing else.

Pondering the procedure to relieve her friend of the horrid experience, she paid no mind to first droplet of rain that began falling on the windscreen as the car approached the city.

Half an hour later Dojima's car parked in front of Rin's house under the now pouring rain. Still under her compulsion, the detective helped her carry the unconscious girl into one of the many guest rooms. Her breath was steady and she wasn't likely to wake up anytime soon, but Rin still strengthened her slumber with a spell of her own. It wouldn't be a good thing if she woke up alone and went into a panic over the things that had happened to her.

Closing the door behind her she escorted Dojima back to his car and gave him one final order.

**"Return to what you were doing before following your suspect. You will remember nothing of this night and will just think you have fallen asleep."**

The wording of her command was a bit dangerous. For instance, if he had been driving when he began his chase, then he would have no recollection of stopping the car and falling asleep. Of course, \ he would eventually chalk that up to exhaustion. The only thing that mattered was breaking his connection to events he shouldn't be aware of. If he ended up with some unanswered questions, then it was acceptable.

Dojima nodded and returned to his car, leaving behind the female Magus to proceed with the procedure to heal the other girl.

* * *

><p>After having restored a little bit of his Od, Shirou cautiously entered the half-collapsed building. The Reinforcement of the critical points of the structure still held so he wasn't going to be buried in there anytime soon. Now that he no longer had to hide his Thaumaturgy, Shirou approached the nearest wall and <em>Grasped<em> the structure of the building. As predicted, the upper floors were completely gone but the basement was still accessible from a secret entrance behind a shelf in the mansion library.

Not five minutes later Shirou was in the torch-lit basement. It didn't take him long to find a cell whose bars looked like they had been wrenched out by an explosion. Knowing that it was most likely Tohsaka's handiwork, he didn't dwell too much there and continued forward.

He finally reached a sturdy looking door around which still lingered a quickly fading trace of Prana. The Bounded Field around Guilford's Workshop was collapsing after his death. It didn't take too much strength for Shirou to break the last enchantment, but he still took a careful approach in entering the place.

His stomach almost emptied again when he took sight of the room beyond that door. It was extremely large and filled with all sorts of materials, mostly of the biological sort. Several cylinders filled with liquid were lined against the walls, and in that liquid were floating parts from different life forms but mostly human parts. Bloodstained surgical tools were scattered over an operation table, which was also covered in blood. It was like stepping onto the set of a really nasty horror movie, only it was real. Shirou hadn't expected much better from Guilford's Workshop, but it was still a disgusting scenario.

Ignoring his nausea he moved to the real target of his exploration: the manuscripts containing the results of Vincent research and the other books he had brought with him from his home country. There wasn't much about Bounded Fields, much to Shirou's dismay but there was still a vast amount of knowledge he could use to expand his own. There was also a few tomes on mythologies from all around the world, no doubt something he prepared for the coming conflict.

He also found a few cases of different materials. Metals, woods, crystals, rocks, all of which stood out by the heavy spiritual influence they had been subjected to. No doubt those kinds of materials could be used to craft some really powerful tool.

On a table there was a small sack containing a handful of heavily charged gems. They contained enough Prana to fuel some very advanced spells. Heck, every single one contained several hundred times his maximum Prana capacity. They were undoubtedly Tohsaka's judging by what he knew of her family's Craft. It wasn't like he could return them without raising suspicion, so he would keep them from the time being.

All in all it was quite the haul. Magi valued their workshop more than they did their lives for good reason, and while Shirou had no use for most of that stuff it still made for a valuable bargaining material that he could trade for other stuff later on.

The next half an hour was spent moving all the things he considered useful into the black van used to kidnap Tohsaka. It was big enough to contain all the stuff he needed and still have some space to spare. The four guys had already left as instructed by Caster's hypnosis, probably on foot since they were supposed to live not too far away. When he was finished he was about to deal the final blow to the mansion when his eyes met the beheaded corpse of Guilford and stopped.

The idea that crossed his mind was sick. Something he would normally not even remotely contemplate, but the sudden events had brought forth more than one question that needed answering as soon as possible

_'… Could it work?'_ he thought to himself. The concept disgusted him to no end but that was likely the only way he had to test his theory without hurting anyone. Shirou had realized that when he first traced Monohoshizao, he had somehow acquired the knowledge to perform the technique created by its original owner. The question now was: could he do the same with every tool he came across, or it had been just some unexplainable fluke? What if his lack of talent in ordinary Thaumaturgy was caused not by a lack of ability, but by some obscure talent that narrowed his fields of application?

Magi were born with a certain element, which is to say their propensity to use a certain branch of Magecraft over the others. Kiritsugu had never been able to tell Shirou what his element was, managing only to exclude the main fives but other in depth analysis required rituals he could no longer perform.

The matter needed thorough investigation because it could be a breakthrough in his Magecraft, and while he didn't care about it in the way other Magi did he still had to admit that the success of his mission hinged heavily on its development. Being squeamish was counterproductive, to say the least.

With those thoughts in mind he slowly approached the corpse and with as much care as he could muster he dragged it to the underground Workshop.

Shirou's lack of repulsion in front of a human corpse was the first heritage and one of the biggest signs of his childhood trauma. Compared to the infernal scenario of charred bodies that was his oldest accessible memory, Vincent's beheaded corpse was not as disturbing as it should have been.

It was an advantage considering what he was about to do, but his own lack of sensitivity over such things was a disturbing notion in its own right and something that had to be used carefully. In any case, it helped a lot when it came to placing the corpse on the table used not too long before to dissect other people by the very same person that was now resting on it.

"I wonder if you would appreciate the irony," he asked to the unresponsive corpse in an attempt to drown the disgust with some dark humor. It didn't work nearly as well as he had hoped. "Probably not," he concluded returning to his business.

Going for the tools that had obviously been used to enact things he would rather not dwell into, Shirou gripped the mean looking scalpels that looked the most worn out and did one thing he knew he'd come to regret.

"Trace on," he muttered under his breath and began dwelling into the information that poured into his brain like a river. Everything from its composition to its forging procedure was broken down into information that Shirou's mind absorbed like a sponge. Everything proceeded without a hitch until he moved to analyze in depth the history and the experience the knife had gone through during its existence. A split second after he did that Shirou's eyes shot open in horror and his arm shot out. The knife was sent clattering against the walls as he muttered, "Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god."

He had to stead himself against a shelf or he would have ended up on the floor. He felt like he had drowned in a sea of blood, and it took him a long moment to get back on his feet. So many people… slaughtered like cattle only to satiate a crazy Magus' thirst for new discoveries. Hundreds…. Hundreds had died screaming under that blade. So much blood, pain and anguish were recorded into it that Shirou was too overwhelmed by it to realize his attempt had been successful until he managed to choke it down.

On the bright side, seeing in his own particular way what Guilford had done with that tool completely erased whatever inkling of sympathy Shirou might have had for the dead Magus.

Shaking his head he took a deep breath and considered his options. The first stage of his experiment had been successful. Grasping the _recorded history_ of a given item was definitely possible. The second part, replicating the _engraved techniques_ was theoretically more difficult. And yet…

Recovering the knife from where it had fallen, Shirou returned to his experiment. After witnessing the depths of Guilford's depravity, he no longer had qualms in revisiting on his corpse a tiny portion of the horrors the dead Magus had forced upon others.

Tuning out unnecessary thoughts like any Magus was trained to do, Shirou isolated the portion of knowledge that was now deeply embedded in his mind. His hands began moving with a precision that belonged only with experienced surgeons. The knife dug into the skin of the beheaded corpse with ease. The incision followed a line only Shirou could see, and five minutes later the portion of the corpse's chest where Guilford's Crest was located had been extracted. Slowly, he reached out for one of the unused containers, filled it with the same liquid as the others and then placed the removed Crest into it, closing it with its pressure lid.

When he was done, his focus returned to the knife he used to perform the surgery and without a second thought he flooded it with Prana. The metal expanded and screeched under the strain as if it possessed its own cursed life. Its metallic pleas fell on deaf ears, and with a final groan it cracked and fell onto the ground in pieces.

"Good riddance," Shirou said to no one in particular. It was just a knife, but it had gone through too many horrible things to remain as a testament to its owner's wickedness. It had to be erased from the world, just like everything else in that place.

There was no hesitation when he set out to accomplish exactly that. It took over an hour to set a Bounded Field to contain the flames and actually draw the simple but extensive array that would make the flames spread properly. It only took a small amount of Prana to ignite the chain reaction that would sustain itself from the ambient Mana instead of any other combustible.

That particular Boundary Field was a standard tool for the Organization's enforcers. It was designed to contain the flames and the energy they emitted inside while allowing oxygen to pass unhindered. It would ensure that the fire would burn everything to ashes while leaving no trace whatsoever. The rain that had started falling would also help to smother the resulting smoke, making it all the more improbable that the authorities would notice what happened anytime soon.

When he was done he climbed inside the van and left the premises without looking back at the blazing inferno, stopping only to pull his bike out of its hiding place. He would have loaded it on the van but it was already too stuffed with other materials so he was forced to move it in the woods on the other side of the main road, far enough from the crime scene that no one would notice. He didn't know if Tohsaka would be coming back to investigate, but he didn't want her to find it. There was no connection between Emiya Shirou and the bike, but he wouldn't risk anything if he could help it. Furthermore, he liked that bike and didn't want to lose it for nothing.

After making sure that nothing could lead any eventual investigator to him, he turned his newly acquired vehicle toward the city, noticing once more how Kiritsugu's training in mundane things was proving itself to be extremely useful. Fortunately, the bad weather conditions and the late hour made it rather improbable being stopped by a patrol, so his trip back was the quietest moment of the entire night.

* * *

><p>She laughed. In the dark, wet night she laughed without restraint. It wasn't a joyful sound but a desperate cry. The rain washed away her tears, as if the world looked down at her, washing the evidence of her sorrow as soon as it left her eyes.<p>

Even her last wish to look at the sunrise one last time as a free person had been crushed into the ground mercilessly. The cruel Gods were supposed to have disappeared from the world since that time and age, but Medea of Colchis would have sworn otherwise.

Once more she was trampled upon. Once more her desire was denied. Once more she was to be scorned by fate for sins that were not just her own.

So that's how it was. That was the only ending that waited for her behind every corner. Every glimpse of hope was wrenched from her. But it was fine. It would all soon be over. Her strength was already leaving her, pain shaking her body in a futile attempt to warn her of her of her incoming demise. It didn't matter to her anymore. All she wanted was let the tears roll down her face now that no one could see just how much pain fate had bestowed upon her.

And so she cried, and cried, and cried for hours on end, until the world became a blur and her knees could no longer support her weight. Medea slumped against a wall like a broken doll, discarded after being used for all of her life, slipping into a cold slumber that didn't bring any rest.

**"…"**

She could hear someone talking, but the meaning of the word escaped her.

_'At least let me die in peace,"_ she managed to think from the depths of the darkness her mind had receded into. But once again her wish was unheard.

**"…"**

Again she didn't respond. She no longer cared about anything that happened to her. At the bottom of despair, she wouldn't look up anymore. The World and the Gods could have her way with her for all that she cared.

**"…"**

She was barely aware of something grabbing hold of her and lifting her from the ground. The feeling of cold rain on her skin and the pain of her existence failing smothered everything else. She was being moved, to a place she neither could nor wanted to know.

For an indefinite amount of time she floated until her body was taken out of the rain. She couldn't tell what was happening around her. Someone moved around in haste, tinkering with all sort of things that made many different sounds. She could hear the pages of a book being turned rapidly until all noises stopped.

She was about to completely lose the last strands of self-awareness when something wet and warm splattered on her lips and into her mouth. She didn't have the chance to taste what it was but as her mind shut down completely she barely registered that she no longer felt cold or in pain.

Perhaps death was welcoming her better than life ever had.

* * *

><p>Despite his best hope, Shirou's night was far from over even though it was so late it could be considered morning.<p>

In order not to bring too much attention to himself by driving a van to his house in the middle of the night, Shirou had parked the vehicle in a small warehouse left to him by Kiritsugu where all of his weapons had been stored after the war. It doubled as a safe house in case any of them had to flee from the Emiya estate.

He would move the materials he retrieved to the Workshop under the shed later on with several small trips that wouldn't make anyone suspicious. He had a lot to ponder about his newfound abilities before moving onto other stuff anyway. At any rate, he was dead tired and in no mood to unload all those crates.

All he wanted to do was take a bath and then sleep as long as he could. No way he was going to school the next… well actually that morning.

He changed into normal clothes, took out an umbrella and headed home. If his mind hadn't been so blank from accumulated tiredness he might have missed the subtle tinge in the atmosphere. He stopped in his tracks and lifted his nose as if sniffing the air.

His Magic attuned sense had once more picked up on something. A feeling to be precise, that filled the air like a plea for help. It was familiar, if only barely, but Shirou couldn't mistake it for anything else. Without even thinking about it his feet moved down empty roads, increasing his speed the closer he got to the source. He turned a corner and he wasn't surprised by the sight that welcome him, although the image burned itself in his mind with more strength than he cared to admit.

Caster was slumped against a wall. The hood that hid her face for so long was pulled back, revealing purple hair that framed an ethereal beauty of elfin traits. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was almost non-existent.

Although Ghost Liners and Heroic Spirits were things he had studied only in passing as a way to broaden the horizon of his education, Shirou knew enough about the theory behind summoning rituals to understand that there was just one explanation for Caster's condition. Without a Magus to provide her with Prana, her existence was being eroded away by Gaia, and she would soon disappear into nothingness. As he got closer to her unconscious form, Shirou was once more overwhelmed by the intense felling she emitted that was now no longer smothered by the inhuman aura of a full powered Servant.

Sadness. If there was one emotion that could describe the sensation she gave him, that was it. To Shirou it felt like an acrid scent that tickled the back of his throat, leaving an aftertaste of saltiness like swallowed tears.

Now that her hood was removed it was all the more intense, and it was reinforced even further by the tinge of red around her eyes in clear contrast with her rapidly paling complexion. A clear sign of the tears she had cried, no doubt.

Right there and then Shirou was faced with a choice of extreme importance, one that would influence the lives of many regardless of what he picked. On a side he could do nothing at all; simply let the natural events run their course. Caster would soon disappear, and with one less Servant around there would have been fewer confrontations between superhuman entities, which in turn would mean less bystanders being caught in the crossfire. On the other hand, he could assist the person, be she human or not, that was about to die and vanish in front of his eyes. One life versus eventually many others.

Such a choice would have been a no-brainer for an Emiya Kiritsugu in his prime. If taking one life would ensure the safety of more people, then it was the right thing to do.

But Emiya Shirou was not the Magus Killer. He was a human being that couldn't ignore the pains and plights of a single person in front of him. No matter what was at stake, he couldn't just disregard the life of a person who, to the best of his knowledge, had yet to willingly harm a single innocent. It was the principle that made him different from his father.

Instead of taking a life to save many, saving a life to save many was his single-minded belief.

"Hang in there!" he told her closing the distance between them. "I'm going to save you."

She was completely unresponsive to his words. Perhaps it was already too late, and he had no idea how to provide her with the energy she needed to survive. He couldn't establish a contract with her being unconscious and the alternative was... Nevermind. It wasn't something that could be done under the rain.

"I won't let you die here," he affirmed once more, scooping her up in his arms bridal style.

She was lighter than he thought she would be, maybe because she was already slipping out of existence. He didn't know, and he didn't have time to find out. Forsaking his umbrella, he once more took the short route over the buildings. Luckily, his Prana reserves had recovered plentifully during the trip back from the mansion; otherwise he would have had a hard time getting home in less than an hour.

He was again glad for the time and weather that made it improbable to be spotted by others. He ignored whatever precaution he usually employed when he was around his place and flew right above the walls and into the garden, landing in a half crouch with a wet thump.

Without breaking his stride he ran into the shed, still open from his hurried departure, and with a foot he nimbly lifted the trapdoor to his Workshop. He almost slipped and fell down the stairs in his hurry, but managed to catch himself before he ended up rolling down and killing himself.

Cutting off his Circuits, he gently placed Caster against a wall in a sitting position before moving to a side of the room to retrieve a series of drawing tools and a few book. He wasn't an expert on Rituals and he had to check out a couple of tomes on the subject to be brush up what he knew.

The circle he was looking for was rather simple to draw, as its only purpose was to facilitate the transfer of Prana from a Magus to his familiar. Normally a spirit of a Servant's level would reject the transfer from anyone but their contracted Master in order to avoid all sorts of tampering that could influence them, but with Caster on the verge of disappearing her resistance should have been close to nil.

Once finished, he moved her in to the middle of the circle, paying extra attention as not to accidentally delete any of the inscriptions with his feet or her body. She was getting lighter by the minute and if he waited too long she would be gone.

Watching her defenseless form on the floor of his Workshop breathing heavily under the strain of maintaining her existence against the corrosion of Gaia, Shirou understood that no matter how wiser it would have been to let her die he could never bring himself to allow such a thing.

"Trace on," he affirmed aloud as if confirming his choice.

The circle in front of him began to shine lightly, bathing the room in a soft blue glow. Taking a small knife from the toolbox, he ran its blade on his left palm with enough strength to cut through the flesh and draw blood. He then poured every unit of Prana he had into his veins and carefully he kneeled over Caster, letting the supercharged drops of blood fall into her mouth. He didn't like the procedure much considering how badly blood had been used around Caster up until that night. Not that he had much of a choice anyway.

The whole procedure took around ten minutes, and by the end of it Shirou was feeling a little light headed from the loss of blood and his body was overheated by the constant stream of energy that had ran through his veins. Caster, on the other hand, had stopped struggling and her face had regained a little color. It was a far cry from a permanent solution and miles away from an efficient system to exchange Prana, but so long as she didn't overexert herself she should be fine for couple of days.

When she regained consciousness they could discuss other options, but at least she was safe for the time being. With that out of the way he had to focus on more mundane matters: namely, where to put his unexpected guest. Leaving her on the cold floor of the Workshop wasn't an option, so had have to move her into his house. Luckily there were more rooms than people living in the Emiya household, so hiding Caster from the eyes of the other visitors shouldn't be too much of a bother.

What bothered him was having to dry Caster's wet body. He was fairly sure that Servants didn't get ill, but it had to be uncomfortable to sleep like that. Problem was that she was obviously a woman, and a beautiful one at that, as he noticed now that he was no longer in a hurry. Shirou was not one to ogle and he had no experience with girls beyond friendship, but he was still a healthy teenage male.

It was both inappropriate and… disturbing for him having to undress her and dry her body, but the option was actually even worse. The lack of excess blood was the only reason why there was no visible reaction on his face. Not that anyone would have noticed it in there.

Those were the times he regretted being solely a combat oriented Magus with no talent for other branches of Magecraft. He could accomplish most of the things he needed to prepare himself for a certain situation with a good application of Runes and Boundary Fields, but those were fairly high end Mysteries that served no purpose in everyday life.

The simplest things, like a spell for drying clothes weren't something included in the instruction he received from Kiritsugu, nor was it examined by the tomes in his possession because they were things that could be accomplished with mundane tools and for which using Magecraft was quite a waste.

Of course, he knew enough about the principles of Runes to make up his own spells, tweak a certain type of Boundary Field and some such if needed be, but that would have required several hour of experimentations, and considering the situation at hand made it exceedingly impractical and even more stupid, especially when a good old towel and some rubbing would do the trick.

Resigning himself to his fate, Shirou scooped up the sleeping woman and headed back to his house, wondering if this sudden turn of events counted as being blessed or cursed. Perhaps it was just a matter of perspective, but he couldn't help but think once more that no good deed goes unpunished.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN: All right. I wanted to write around 5 to 7K word per chapter but this one totally screwed my average. 20k for a single chapter is way over anything I planned to write short of a one shot, so don't expect another chapter this long in a while.<p>

That aside, am I the only one that thinks Shirou would make for a terrific surgeon? With his ability to replicate all the techiques applied to every blade he has seen, Shirou should be capable of jumpstarting his learning process by simply tracing used scalpels. He would still require to learn the basics of anatomy, that's true but he could accelate the progress greatly.

Just a thought.

Anyway thanks for reading and for reviewing.

See ya.


	15. Stains

**Chapter 14 – Stains**

(Published: 10.16.12 - Beta: RavingScholar, Cloud Link Zero, Zaralann)

* * *

><p>She was no longer cold. Her body floated unresponsively in a warm cocoon.<p>

Through half lidded eyes, she saw the outline of a person moving around her. His touch was gentle and warm. There was no malice and no ill intentions in it. She didn't know who he was, but he was taking care of her with a gentleness she had long since forgotten.

She had questions, many of them…but they could wait. Right then, all she wanted was to keep floating in that never-ending warmness. Closing her eyes, she settled herself in a restful slumber; one she hadn't experienced in years, her plights put aside and forgotten, at least for a short time.

* * *

><p>Shirou's face burned with the force of a thousand suns. Never before in his life had he been forced to go through such an ordeal. Actually, never before had he thought such a thing would qualify as an ordeal, but it did. Busy as he was, he had never really stopped to consider the thought of having a relationship with a girl, with all the benefits that came with it. Despite that, he was still a male, and while his mind sometimes went into the gutter he always quickly snapped out of it.<p>

That being said, he'd never imagined that the first time his hands roamed over a woman's body, it would be done in such a manner.

Undressing Caster had been bad enough: her heavily wet clothes had clung to her body like a glove, making it all the more difficult to remove them without touching her in… improper places. In hindsight, all his efforts to keep his hands to himself as much as he could were for naught, seeing how the next step was drying her very naked body.

Not looking wasn't an option if he didn't want to accidentally grope her as he went about his task, so he was forced to use his peripheral vision to avoid staring at specific parts. Focusing as much as he could on her face, Shirou couldn't help but think that Caster was probably the most beautiful woman he had seen in his life… and then he promptly punched himself in the face for being a pervert.

By the end of it, his face looked like he had been on the wrong end of a beating, but at least the _'impure thoughts'_ had been smacked out of his mind. Redressing her was the least embarrassing part by that point. Thankfully, there was plenty of clothing that belong to Kiritsugu's wife, Irisviel, and a few pieces left behind by Taiga for one reason or another.

When he was done, he allowed himself to take a bath before dragging his exhausted body to bed where he finally managed to fall asleep.

* * *

><p>Blink, breathe… Blink, breathe.<p>

… Something was different. _He_ could see. _He_ could hear. _He_ could smell. _He_ could move. _He_ had eyes, _he_ had ears, _he_ had a nose and _he_ had limbs.

_He_ had a body!

No…. it wasn't quite _his_ as it was HIS. _He_ inhabited it, _he_ saw the world through it, but could not interact with nor control it.

…Until now.

Something had changed. Something that brought HIM closer to _him,_ and _he_ had a good idea of what it was.

A sin had been committed.

HE was stained, if only a little: comparable to speck of darkness in an otherwise overwhelming light.

It was already being cleansed, though. Such a tiny little stain couldn't reach HIS soul. It was only a droplet, after all. _His_ control was already waning, and _his_ consciousness was retiring to the depths of HIS soul.

It was such a pity. _He_ wouldn't have minded being in control for a little while longer. Then again, there was a serious chance that HE would be stained a lot more in the future, and even if that failed there was still another path.

One way or another, _his_ time would come.

* * *

><p>Blink, breathe… blink, breathe.<p>

Medea woke up with a feeling of surprise because, well, she really shouldn't have woken up at all. In fact, the last thing she could recall was blacking out under the rain, her energy fading into the brink of oblivion.

And now she was in a place she had never seen before, laying in one of those strange covers that the people of Japan seemed so fond of. The room she was in was made of wood, and aside from a small table and the…futon she had been sleeping in, there was no other furniture. The only other object that deserved attention was the bundle of robes neatly folded beside her. Among those, she could recognize a familiar piece of clothing: her robes.

A surge of panic went through her as she realized she had been undressed. Taking a peek under the covers, she saw that she was wearing a set of sleepwear…pajamas, if she wasn't mistaken. A quick check of her body confirmed that whomever had brought her there hadn't taken advantage of her unconscious state. She was relieved, of course, though the reasons and the identity of her rescuer were still to be determined.

Taking another moment to check her condition, she registered that her Prana reserves were low, though she was nowhere close to disappearing. She could hardly cast more than a couple of spells before having to recharge, though.

And speaking of recharging, the method used to transfer Prana to her fading body wasn't much to her liking. The taste of copper in her mouth told her all she needed to know. The Magus, whoever he or she was, had forced her to drink blood to maintain her existence.

Granted, there weren't many other less invasive methods to supply her with Prana while she was unconscious. Nevertheless, her recently acquired disgust for blood based Magecraft wasn't something she could easily dismiss.

Putting her confirmed well being aside, Caster slipped out from under the covers and slowly moved to the sliding door. She opened it just a little, enough to peek outside without being seen. From what she could gather, she was in a relatively big mansion, somewhere in the middle of Fuyuki judging by the roofs of other houses that she could see behind the walls.

It wasn't like she didn't expect Magi to live within the city limits, but it was absurd to keep a Servant without restraining her in such a place, considering that exposing Magecraft was a taboo in the current era. Either this Magus was an idiot, or they didn't care about what she could or would do.

Either way was fine with her, but she had no intention to leave before finding out why and by whom she had been helped. Not only out of gratitude or honor, of which she was perfectly capable, but also because she didn't like being ignorant of events that involved her so closely.

Taking a look back at her robes, she noticed another set of clothes right beside them. Picking them up, she found herself holding a simple yet well made purple gown and a cream colored long sleeved shirt.

Well, that was different. It appeared that her host had a better sense of hospitality than her deceased Master. He had a higher level of respect as well: Vincent hadn't bothered to provide her with anything. Clothes, quarters and all the things living humans used… she didn't require any of those to sustain herself or to perform her tasks, so she wasn't given any.

She considered slipping back into her robes for a moment before leaving the room, but finally decided to indulge her host. Quickly, she changed into the clothes she had been given. They weren't exactly her size, but they were still comfortable enough. She would have normally used more caution before touching or wearing anything from an unknown source, but she didn't think she was in any immediate danger, especially considering that she had been defenseless for several hours up to that point. Besides, showing a modicum of acceptance would serve to better hide her discomfort to the present situation when facing the resident Magus.

Now, speaking of Magi: how was she going to find her host in this huge place? She could feel no lingering trace of Prana, and there was no noise to speak of besides the faint buzzing of the car traffic she could hear in the distance. The only thing even remotely close to a clue was the faint smell of food being cooked not too far away.

… Food?

* * *

><p>In spite of being dead tired, Shirou hadn't been able to sleep much. The nightmare of the fire tormented him for the couple of hours he managed to actually sleep. When Sakura and Taiga arrived that morning he told them he had a cold and wouldn't go to school. Considering his rather pale complexion that morning, it wasn't a hard excuse to believe.<p>

Taiga had the gall to cheer the first cold Shirou had ever caught, saying something about him no longer being an idiot or some such nonsense. Shirou was too tired to retort and simply waved her off as she left with a worried looking Sakura.

His guest had yet to wake up, which was a good thing considering that he didn't want to explain her presence to his usual visitors. He wasn't particularly looking forward to the confrontation with the now master-less Servant, as he didn't know what sort of feelings she would have in regards to his meddling. As he had learned from Kiritsugu, not everyone wanted to be saved. Some people craved their own demise and would curse whoever was foolish enough to interfere with their self-destructive tendencies.

He was quite convinced that Caster's case wasn't of that type. However, Heroic Spirits were supposed to be people with a strong ego, and such a person might react badly to the unrequested acts of kindness of other people. He honestly hoped that it wasn't the case, but it was better be ready for anything.

On that note, it was a good idea to set up an environment where violence was the farthest thing from anyone's mind and he possessed a single, well-honed skill to achieve that result: cooking.

No one in their right mind would desecrate the holy ground sanctioned by the presence of a delicious meal. Even the most temperamental of all creatures, one Fujimura Taiga, would restrain her destructive impulses in the presence of Shirou's unparalleled kitchen skills. That's right: Shirou was quite confident that his culinary techniques could stop even Heroic Spirits in their tracks if only for the few short minutes required to consume their meal.

Rolling up his sleeves, he made a beeline toward his kitchen to set up the appropriate meeting place.

* * *

><p>Medea moved through the sun-bathed corridors of the house, awed by the quiet atmosphere of the place. There was a sense of peace about the mansion that was in stark contrast with Vincent's mansion, something that Caster thought didn't fit the standards of Magi's residences in this age.<p>

According to the information provided by the Grail during her summoning, modern Magi were even more hostile toward strangers than in her times, protecting their secrets with everything they had. At the very least, they would set up a Bounded Field to repel others by forcing a sense of dread that would fend off the weak minded as a preliminary form of defense.

This place had nothing of the sort. She could only describe it as warm and welcoming, though it could still be a façade to lull eventual intruders in a false sense of security. She certainly wasn't going to lower her guard just for that reason; she was better than that, but she could at the very least appreciate a far less gloomy environment.

It took her less than a minute to move from the room she had woken up into to the source of the _–admittedly appetizing –_ smell of food.

She poked her head inside the room, a rather nice if mundane living room with one of those low-set tables and a… television set, the Grail provided, against one wall. The hallway led to what appeared to be a small kitchen where a redheaded boy, dressed in jeans and a white colored shirt with blue sleeves, was handling several pots and pans. He was humming to himself contentedly.

"Good morning," he greeted turning around to meet her stare. Pure-looking golden eyes met her gaze, and she immediately understood whom she was dealing with.

"Archer…-san," she acknowledged as a greeting, adding the proper suffix as an afterthought. A Heroic Spirit and a Servant she was, but she was also a Princess of Colchis, if merely a fallen one. She knew etiquette and proper behavior, and addressing her host, as well as the man who was most likely her savior, was the least she could do. It was a far cry from the way she called him the night before, but then again, the circumstances were just as different.

"I'm glad to see you're awake. Are you feeling any better?"

She considered his question in a way deeper than he probably meant. Her Prana reserves were a little on the low side, but not worse than how Vincent kept them while she was under his control. The lack of a stable energy source was troubling but not an immediate concern. Her physical condition was fine as well, seeing as the only wound was self-inflicted. Not to mention Rule Breaker wasn't meant as a weapon of physical offense, so there was probably not even a scar on her body.

However, all of that was the least of her concerns. She was alive and free. The Master she loathed so much was dead and gone. His plans for the war were in shambles, and all of his enemies were alive and well, to the best of her knowledge. Yes, she was feeling completely satisfied with Vincent's absolute defeat, and that made her feel better than she ever had since the day of her summoning a few weeks prior.

"I am well," she answered with a tiny smile she couldn't hold back. "Not in small part thanks to you, I suppose. You have my gratitude."

"Think nothing of it," he waved her off with what appeared to be a tinge of embarrassment. It looked like he didn't react well to praise. An interesting tidbit of knowledge she filed away for later. "I just did what I thought was right."

"Nevertheless, I would have died if not for your assistance. Speaking of which… your method to restore my Prana reserves…"

"Ah. Yeah… I hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable, but I honestly didn't have any other way…"

"It's all right," she explained. "My former Master made a horrible use of his blood and Magecraft, but I can't fault your intentions nor their results."

"That's a relief," he sighed. "I wasn't sure how you'd react at being force-fed a stranger's blood. I mean, it does sound rather creepy."

Medea nodded. "That it does, and though I would have preferred another method, it's still preferable to the alternative. Speaking of which, it must have taken a great deal of blood and Prana to restore my reserves. Are you really sure you should be up and about so early after everything that happened last night?"

"It's okay," he reassured, waving his hand as if to brush away her concerns. "I heal faster than most people… and I really didn't feel like sleeping. Not after what I discovered last night. No offense, but I had hoped that the Grail War wouldn't happen ever again."

"Ah, yes. As I recall you seemed to have a deeper insight on the inner working of the Grail System than what I was summoned with. Would you mind clarifying a few things for me?"

"Sure but before that… are you hungry? It's a bit late for breakfast, but I didn't eat anything since last night. I'm absolutely starving."

"… As a Servant, my existence is sustained sufficiently by Prana alone. There's no need for me to eat any food."

"That's… great, I guess," Archer said, scratching his head. "But that's not what I asked."

Indeed it wasn't. She considered his offer for a moment. Truth to be told, her former Master had never even thought about offering her something. Food was one of the many things that Vincent didn't even consider offering her. In addition to that, she had to admit that the smell coming from behind the boy was positively enticing. While she didn't need it to survive, she could still enjoy it.

"… I would like some. Thank you."

"Great," he exclaimed with clear satisfaction in his eyes. "Have a seat. I'll be there in a moment."

Nodding her appreciation she took a seat on one of the cushions placed around the low-set table that served as chairs. She didn't quite understand this country's fixation with sleeping and eating on the floor, and while the Grail had provided her with enough knowledge of the local ways and customs for her to get by, she still felt uncomfortable sitting in such a position.

Then again, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Hospitality, no matter how unusual to her standards, wasn't something she was accustomed to both in her lifetime and her existence as a Servant so far. It was a nice change, one she intended to enjoy to its fullest without shame. She felt entitled to at least that much.

The Archer boy soon came out of the kitchenette, balancing a couple of trays with the finesse of an accomplished waiter. She hadn't quite pegged him as the _'housewife'_ type upon their first meeting, but who was she to judge what he did with his free time? It was a stark and somewhat amusing contrast to the persona he showed the previous night, as well as a considerably refreshing change in the type of characters she had grown accustomed to dealing with.

Then again, the boy probably had no idea just who he had rescued and welcomed into his home. She was quite convinced that, if he knew, he wouldn't have looked at her twice, much less helped her in any way.

Speaking of which…

"Excuse my bluntness, but I have to as ask," she began as the boy set the plates up in front of her. "Why did you come to my aid last night?"

"Hm? Do I need a reason to help anyone beside wanting to help?" he asked with genuine curiosity in his voice, as if the thought of gaining something from his deed had never once crossed his thoughts.

She blinked in surprise. Twice. It wasn't like she believed that selfless kindness didn't exist…she just wasn't supposed to be able to receive it. The _Witch of Betrayal_ had been scorned and despised for far too long to immediately think that that was the right answer to her question.

"I suppose not," she finally conceded.

"I thought so," he replied with a grin as he finished setting up the table. He sat in front of her on the other side of the table, looking satisfied for some reason.

Medea looked at the plates in front of her. It looked like a fairly simple meal of vegetable, fish, rice and some sliced fruits. Nothing fancy, but everything had been arranged with great care.

"Itadakimasu," he said, giving his approval to start the meal.

Medea served herself a portion of just about everything, not really expecting anything out of the ordinary from her host's cuisine. She was forced to reconsider her initial assessment on the very first bite. The range of flavors was simple, yes, but the way the spices and seasoning blended together subtly but firmly gave her tongue an entirely new level of appreciation for his skill behind the counter. She used to be a Princess, and as such someone entitled to savor the best recipes cooked by the greatest chefs of her country. Even with that experience, the level of Archer's cuisine was something else entirely.

The meal was consumed in silence even though Medea had several questions she wanted answered. Her mouth was far too occupied savoring every bite to waste time on things that could be said later. She didn't even bother considering her discomfort in using those strange sticks, lost as she was in her culinary bliss.

She didn't believe it could be just mundane cuisine. No, it had to be some sort of Magecraft, perhaps Alchemy. Yes, that most certainly more sense, because she couldn't possibly believe otherwise. She would have to pry into his Mysteries later on. This wasn't the kind of Craft she could pass up.

But that was for later. Now it was time for yet another portion…

* * *

><p>Shirou didn't quite know what to think. He was quite relieved that Caster had reacted positively to his help and his method to replenish her Prana. He was even happier when he managed to overcome her reticence in having breakfast with him, but….<p>

Where was she putting all of that food?

With fast yet graceful movements, she was emptying every single plate on the table. He couldn't quite understand how she could be so elegant while devouring everything at that speed. Of course, he liked when his cooking was appreciated; who didn't? But something like this, that was just so beyond the concept of human appetite? Yeah, it had to be a Servant thing.

He wasn't foolish enough to comment aloud on her appetite, of course. He knew enough about women to know better than to point out anything along the lines of calorie intake. He had no intention to step on that specific landmine. Ever. He was reckless, yes, but not suicidal.

He made a mental note to stock up on food, just in case, but now he had to start eating too before there was nothing left for himself.

Five minutes later, the plates were crystal clean. Not a single crumb could be found on the table.

"It was excellent," Caster said wiping her mouth with a napkin, satisfaction clearly shining in her eyes. She seemed a little embarrassed with her show of appetite, though.

"Good to know," Shirou chuckled as he began cleaning the table. "I'm quite confident in my cooking skills."

"With good reason," Caster agreed with a solemn nod, somewhat restoring her dignity with that single praise.

Shirou was secretly relieved that he had managed to break the ice with the mysterious woman. He wasn't quite sure how to handle her but it seemed that she was in a rather good mood–definitely different from the previous night. Then again, Guilford probably had a way of bringing the worst out of most people, so he wasn't quite sure of which was her true character.

Leaving the plates in the sink to wash later, he quickly returned to the table were Caster was patiently waiting for him.

* * *

><p>"So…," he began returning to his place in front of her, "the Grail War."<p>

"Indeed. Judging by our last conversation on this topic you seem to know more than my Master did. Unless he was holding things back from me, but I don't think that's the case. How did come across this knowledge if you don't mind me asking? Do you belong to one of the founding families, perhaps?"

Archer shook his head. "No, though my late father participated in the previous war as representative of one of them: the Einzbern. Everything I know comes from his experience in the past conflict, as well as from what he could gather by investigating the Grail afterward."

If possible, Medea's attention was even more focused now. Granted, knowledge of the Heroes who participated in the previous conflicts was hardly relevant since they didn't carry over to the next War. Nevertheless, the experience of a Master who had lived through the entire conflict was truly priceless, for even if those who fought it weren't the same, the system didn't change from installment to installment.

"I see," she replied evenly, carefully hiding her enthusiasm. It would do no good to show too much eagerness. "What did he found out?"

"Before that," Archer interrupted, "there is something I need to know from you. Depending on the answer, I might have to refrain from sharing what I know."

She had been expecting that. It was fair, all things considered. He had already done more than enough for her without asking anything in return. Though if he wanted to know her identity, as she expected he did, there was hardly any chance he would willingly share what he knew if he had any insight on her legend.

Sadly, she didn't have the resources to force him to speak without again risking disappearing. Besides, she didn't really want to turn against him while she owed him so much. Though she was the Witch of Betrayal and had ascended to the Throne of Heroes thanks to the atrocities and sins she had committed in life, she hadn't walked down that path of her own volition.

"What is it?" she asked prepared to see him change from friendly to hostile.

"What is it that you wanted the Grail for?"

Wait…just that? That was an incredibly silly question. Sure, he could determine a lot from her motives, but he could have deduced that and more by discovering her identity. Wouldn't her name make for a far more valuable piece of information? It was the most important thing that every other Master and Servant would have wanted to know, after all.

He just didn't make sense in her opinion. Then again, she didn't know his motives either. As he obviously was not interested in owning the wish-granting device, his thought processes about the entire situation might be different.

It was her luck that she wouldn't have to reveal her identity, and yet… she felt a bit embarrassed to openly admit her wish. It was like admitting she was ashamed of herself, which incidentally happened to be the truth. Even though her sins weren't her choice, even if they had been forced upon her they still stained her soul to this very day. If only she could make up for them. If only she could have…

"A second chance," she said with a feeble voice and without looking at him. "I desired to live again as a free person and to make up for the mistakes I committed in my lifetime."

"… I see," he acknowledged after a moment. "I'm sorry if I asked something unpleasant, but I had to know. The Grail can't fall into the wrong hands, you understand."

"I do," she agreed firmly. She actually did understand. She knew full well that an all-powerful wish-granting machine shouldn't belong to someone who'd use it for despicable things; such as forcing other people to commit acts they didn't want to do. A person like her late Master would have brought nothing but sorrow for everyone but himself, and while she was willing to commit even more sins on her way to the Grail, she didn't believe it was a good thing. Hers was, after all, a completely selfish wish.

"That's good, but like I said the Grail is just one huge hoax. If you know how to make your wish come true on your own, I'd suggest you forget about it entirely."

"Why should I?" She inquired. "Even though it's not what it's claimed to be, it would still make a very powerful catalyst."

"Because it's broken."

"Broken?" Caster asked, brows furrowing.

"Yes," he confirmed. "I'm not privy to all details since most of the this knowledge was gathered after my father… fell out of grace with the Einzbern, but as far as I know during the Third War an irregular Servant was summoned. I don't know who he or she was, only that it was of the Avenger Class."

"Avenger? There is no such class as far as I know."

"I know. The Einzbern abused their knowledge of the System to rig the War in their favor, though it didn't seem to have worked as they intended. Apparently, the Servant they summoned was quite weak, barely above a human in terms of strength. However, its presence became a problem after he was defeated."

"After? How could it affect the War after his death…unless his Noble Phantasm was something that activated only after being defeated? Perhaps a weapon that worked on the principle of retribution?"

"It could be, but he didn't manage to gather much info in that regard. All I know is that from that moment onward, the Grail was stained and the summoning of Anti-Heroes had become possible.

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked, obviously wanting to know what his stance was on the subject.

"Not necessarily. I mean, through history one's hero was usually someone else's villain. I can't exactly judge a person I don't know personally based on their legends alone. I wasn't planning on meeting any of your kind in my lifetime, but considering who my father's Servant turned out to be I prefer to keep an open mind about it."

"… A most wise decision," she said in an even tone.

"Thank you. Anyway that's not what I'm concerned about. The problem is that since that Servant died, the Grail became something capable of realizing wishes only through destruction. In the course of the last war, the cursed substance that spilled from the Grail caused a fire that claimed the lives of over five hundred people."

"That seems a little farfetched. How can you say that with absolute certainty? Couldn't it be that the Master or Servant who had reached the Grail had wished for such a thing in the first place?"

"No," he answered bitterly. "Seeing how it was my father who obtained the Grail as well as the one who destroyed it upon discovering its corrupted nature."

"Your… father was the winner of the previous War?" Caster asked. She just couldn't believe her luck. Even though she didn't really desire the Grail anymore, if she wanted her wish fulfilled she still had to survive the coming conflict. That meant winning, which in turn meant gaining possession of the not-so-holy Cup. Having access to the knowledge of the previous winner was a priceless advantage. "Wait…what do you mean destroyed?"

"When he realized what the Grail actually was, he forced his Servant to use her Noble Phantasm to destroy its physical manifestation. Mind you, even though it was destroyed by an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm it still possessed enough energy and maliciousness to destroy a good portion of the city."

That was undoubtedly unsettling. If this information was accurate, then possessing the Grail itself might have been a bigger problem than the struggle to obtain it. However, she couldn't just take his words at face value without some kind of proof. It wasn't like she didn't believe his honesty, because the boy was far too transparent for lies, but he might have been deceived or mislead.

"I'm sorry if I sound ungrateful for doubting you after all you've done for me, but do you have any proof of what you're saying?"

"No, you don't have to apologize. I would probably question my words in your place if I didn't trust the source…" he trailed off. "There is actually something I can show you, if you want to realize just how wicked the Grail actually is. Are you feeling up for a walk?"

* * *

><p>Dojima groaned and woke up. His head was throbbing painfully, and he couldn't focus on where he was. It took him a long minute to realize he was in his car, with his head resting against the wheel in a most uncomfortable position.<p>

"Hmmrrgg… What the hell?"

Why was he in his car again? Oh, right. He had been watching Emiya's place hoping to find a definite connection between him and Archer. He had to have fallen asleep at some point during the night, though it was quite strange since it had never happened before.

Pulling himself to a straight position in his seat, his backbone creaked loudly as did his neck.

"Damn… I'm too old for this shit," he protested. He stretched his arms as much as he could as he yawned loudly. It was in this outstretched position that he noticed the first of many discrepancies. When his eyes fell on the odometer, he almost got stuck with his jaw stretched open in a yawn, and it took him a serious effort to recompose himself from the surprise.

"What the fuck?" he asked to no one in particular as he held the steering wheel with both hands, almost sticking his nose in it to look beyond. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and blinked again. No fucking way.

The mark of a good detective was his eye for details. Being able to notice the tiniest details meant being able to discern the truth in an ocean of lies. On this regard, Dojima made for a terrific detective. In particular, he always made a point of committing to mind how many kilometers his car had travelled every time he stopped it. It was a good way to communicate his general position to the station during a car chase in an unfamiliar part of town or outside the city limits.

That's why he could help but notice the difference of over fifty kilometers from the number he remembered when he last stopped the car. Normally he would have chalked it up to a mistake, but that wasn't the only thing that wasn't as he recalled.

He was no longer wearing his coat, for one thing. Looking around he found it on the back seat, wrinkled in a way that suggested that something moderately heavy had been place on it. His shirt was slightly damp, as if he had spent at least a small amount of time under the rain that had obviously fallen during the night while he _'slept.'_

Something didn't add up. He didn't understand how but if he had to judge by what he could see he, or at least his car had gone somewhere the previous night. But how could it be? He could understand falling asleep while on the watch but not everything else. He hadn't heard of sleep-driving before, and unless he was the first known case of such a condition something else had to have happened. Something he had no recollection of.

He had jokingly compared Fuyuki's situation to that old American TV series on aliens and other paranormal activities but that was what it amounted to: a joke. He wasn't Fox-fucking-Mulder, and this was Japan, not the United States.

There wasn't some freaking shadow government plotting the conquest of Earth with a hostile alien species or something ridiculous like that…

Or was there? He was beginning to doubt his rationality, to be honest. Archer's words about an organization that could easily reach and eliminate anyone with none the wiser now had a lot more weight. An organization the vigilante had connections with.

Could it really be true? Could the strange sightings, suicides, disappearances and murders have something to do with the paranormal? A week ago he would have laughed at the notion, now he wasn't so fast at dismissing the concept anymore.

Now that he thought about it, he had heard in passing of two JSDF jets disappearing over the city after transmitting something about monsters and some other nonsense like that. He hadn't bothered to connect that rumor to his investigation because he had put it out of his mind right after he heard it from none other than Adachi himself. After all, the man was famous for talking about everything that passed through his head, be it confidential or not.

Now he couldn't just ignore all of this senseless stuff that was happening around him all the time, not after having a blackout of several hours he couldn't account for. Had he been abducted and later made to forget about something he wasn't supposed to see? Was Earth's invasion by alien forces really starting from Fuyuki?

And more importantly… was he just out of his fucking mind?

No, no, no. He had to stay calm and think this through before going off the deep end. He had to go back home, get some proper sleep and then try to remember all he could about the previous night. If necessary he would visit a therapist, a hypnotist or whatever and have this mess sorted out.

Starting the engine he sped down the road without bothering to look back in the rear mirror. If he did he might have seen his prime suspect leaving his house accompanied by a woman with strangely pointed ears….

* * *

><p>"Archer-san, where are we going?" Medea asked as she walked by his side. <em>I'll show you proof,<em> he had said to her before leaving his house with her.

"It's Emiya Shirou. My name I mean," the redhead said. "Don't call me _that_ in public or you'll put me in trouble. You know… secret identity and all that stuff."

"Oh my," she chuckled amusedly. "You are just like a Servant, aren't you? Hiding yourself behind a title that sums up the core of your skills but says nothing of your true potential."

"Yeah. I didn't miss the irony either; trust me. In my defense, it wasn't a name of my choosing: it just kind of stuck on me. I've just never seen any reason to point out otherwise."

"Shirou-san it is, then. You will excuse me if I don't reveal my true name as of now."

"Sure," he conceded. "I know that Servants aren't supposed to reveal their names to anyone but their Masters. Don't worry about it."

"That's much appreciated… though I have to admit you are quite the strange individual for a Magus."

"I'm not a Magus. Neither my father nor I call ourselves by that title. Well, technically we do for convenience's sake but we don't really identify ourselves with that term."

"Why is that? Is there something wrong with being a Magus?"

"Not really wrong, just different," he said as he shrugged. "In this day and age, a proper Magus is someone whose efforts are entirely for the sake of advancing their Craft. I and my father prefer the title of 'Magic Users' to that because we are people whose reason to practice and wield Magecraft doesn't lie in the Craft itself."

"I see. It is indeed an important distinction, though in my era there wasn't much choice between the two. Those who wielded power, no matter what kind were feared, coveted, and involved in conflicts often against their will."

"Yeah, that's another thing that sets us apart. Magi hide their Craft because they don't want to share it and because they don't want to be bothered for it. My father always told me that Magic had to be kept secret because power breeds conflict."

"It sounds like he was a very wise man," she commented honestly. Medea didn't know much about Archer…Shirou's father, but it was obvious that the boy held his deceased parent in high regard and, by the sound of it with at least some good reason. To be able to easily throw away such power, no matter how corrupted, was the mark of a great man and a trait that had perhaps been inherited by his son.

"He was," he confirmed, "but the price for his wisdom was a steep one and eventually drove him to an early grave."

"That is often the case," she agreed before they both fell silent. Medea capitalized on the lack of conversation to ponder the current development.

Much to her surprise she was still in the game. Though the Grail was probably no longer a viable resource, she still had a chance to make her wish come true with her own hands. It wouldn't be easy, but she knew enough about Magecraft to achieve True Incarnation if she managed to survive the conflict. Her relationship with the closest Magus she knew about was at the very least cordial, which was a great improvement compared with her late Master. She didn't still know with absolute certainty what his stance in regard to the War was, but if his behavior so far was any indication he would involve himself in the coming conflict if only to stop it once and for all.

She could use that. A painfully good guy like him was the prime example of an exploitable resource, both as an exceptional front line fighter and as a decent source of Prana. In addition, she could also leech all the energy she required from the local leylines if she could locate a nexus to tap from. Adding that to the early time of her summoning would give her an enormous advantage over the competition.

As she considered several scenarios and their various outcomes, they travelled from the residential area to the center of the city. Finally, they stood in front of an area that desperately wanted to pass for a park…and failed badly.

"What… is this?" She almost choked out her question.

The place was pregnant with malice and hatred to the point that it was almost suffocating to a spiritual entity such as her. The effect was further amplified by her natural sensitivity to Magecrafts.

"This is the place where the Grail appeared at the end of the last War. You can feel it, right? Over such a wide area and after almost ten years, it still lingers like a curse. Do you actually think that anything even remotely human could harbor such hatred and malevolence after being destroyed by an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm?"

"No," she choked out, "it definitely can't be human."

"Angra Mainyu," he said. "That's how the Grail presented itself to my father. It's the name of a Zoroastrian god that embodies humanity's wickedness and evils."

"That's not possible. Actual divinities cannot be summoned by the Grail, much less be bound into a Servant's existence."

"I know. I have no idea how it happened, but the best explanation we came up with is that it had a connection with Servant Avenger somehow. Maybe it was a personal curse that affected the Servant's soul and then passed over to the Grail, or maybe it was something else entirely. Regardless of the reason, when it came into contact with the Grail it infected it."

"It shouldn't work like that," she objected. "Even if the Grail works by consuming the souls of the defeated Servants, it shouldn't be affected by them."

"Yes, and Anti-Heroes shouldn't be available to be summoned either ,and yet…"

"… I can see your point," she reluctantly agreed. Coincidentally, from the third war on the summoning of Anti-Heroes had become possible. Her former Master had told her as much without being able to explain the cause. Her own presence was a testament that the System was not working as originally intended. In addition to that, the severely cursed area she was now standing on was proof enough that whatever _'malfunction'_ the Grail had incurred was heavily malignant. It was definitely not something to meddle with, if possible. Unlimited power and ill intentions were an extremely bad combination even in the eyes of a Witch. That aside…

"Shirou-san, you don't seem to be affected by this place as much as I am."

That was a detail that bothered her. Of course her own susceptibility to this curse was far greater than any human being, but the lingering maliciousness was so intense that even normal humans kept themselves away from that place. How was a Magus, a person sensible to the World's inner workings, standing there without looking any worse for the wear?

"I'm used to it," he shrugged. "I've been coming to this place from time to time. A reminder of what I fight for, if you will."

There was more than that to his statement, she could tell as much. However, she preferred not to pry in what was obviously a personal matter, not until it proved to be relevant. His motives for wanting to fight were already clear to her. Whatever the cause, Shirou wasn't a person that would just stand aside and watch people suffer.

He proved it the night before, when he raided the mansion of another Magus to help two girls in peril. He showed it even more when he went out of his way to save her, as she was about to die, offering her warm bed and food.

Emiya Shirou was a person who fought for other people. Whether the motives were selfish or selfless it didn't matter. He knew what he would do in the coming conflict. The question now was… what would she do?

* * *

><p>When Rin finished the ritual to purify Yukiko from the remnants of Guilford's Magecraft and to modify her memories, the sun was already up in the sky. She contacted Yukiko's parents and the school to inform they would not attend classes that morning due to a cold.<p>

She dragged herself in the shower and then to her bed, where she collapsed in an exhausted slumber. When she woke up again it was nearly noon and yet she was still tired. Yukiko was still sleeping, and she would continue for at least another few hours. She had been affected by Guilford's spell far longer than Rin. That worked in her favor for a change, as she had several things she wanted to do, even if she was reluctant to leave her friend out of her sight for too long.

Too bad that she couldn't postpone it at all. She had to get to the bottom of this sick business.

After a quick meal she left her house, heading to the only place where she could get some answers: Fuyuki Church.

"Kirei!" she shouted as she barged into the building.

"My, my, Rin," Kotomine chuckled at his disciple's distress from behind his altar. "I didn't raise you to be such an uncivil person. What would your parents think if they saw you now?"

"Cut the crap. I'm not in the mood for your mind games. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Hm? What are you referring to exactly?"

"The Grail War, what else? Why didn't you tell me that the Servants were already being summoned?"

"Oh? Is that is what this is all about? Very well, then. Rin, why should I have mentioned it to you?"

"Why should… Are you kidding me? I'm the heir of Tohsaka and the Second Owner of this land!"

"What exactly is your point? What are you to the Grail as of now? Are you a Master, perhaps?"

"Urgh…," she groaned. Count on Kirei to twist the knife in the wound.

"No, you are not," he continued as if he were talking to a small child. "As of today your connection to the Grail is non-existent, and as such there was no reason for me to inform you of anything."

"Are you kidding me? Master or not I'm still the Magus in charge of this land. I have to be kept updated on these events."

"Is that so? So long as the War doesn't begin, you and the rest of this city aren't going to be affected."

Like hell she wasn't. She barely got away with her life just a few short hours before. How could this jerk say something so… Wait a moment…

"You don't know, do you? I met a Servant, here in this town, just last night," she said this with the sweet smile of someone who had just one-upped a person she disliked profoundly. She was satisfied to see his amusement at her expense melt like snow.

"What?"

"Servant Caster and her Master to be precise, though the latter might now be a different person since the last time I saw them."

Kirei brows furrowed. It was obvious that, while aware of the Grail's movement as expected from the appointed supervisor, he had no idea that the Servants were already visiting the battlefield.

"Tell me everything," he demanded. She half-considered telling him no, but she was still in debt to him for the help he gave her to find Yukiko. Besides, his duties as overseer were not to be taken lightly, and in her capacity of Second Owner she couldn't keep any critical information to herself.

And so she told him what happened the night before, from the kidnapping to her escape from Guilford's mansion. It took a good half an hour to retell the whole tale, but by the end of it Kirei looked positively troubled.

"Another Magus," he said pensively.

"It's safe to assume so, since I can't see who else could be both interested and skilled enough to slip past the Wards and eliminate a fully trained Magus and Master, even with the help of his Servant."

"… This is troubling news indeed. Though the early summoning of a Servant is not unexpected, their acting outside of the boundaries of the conflict might cause a violation of the rule of secrecy."

"True. If we are to control this situation, then I need to know everything I can. Why is the War starting earlier? Which Servants have been summoned already?"

"Only Servant Berserker and Servant Caster have been summoned, and so far no one has been defeated."

"Which means that whomever killed Guilford made a contract with his Servant. I assumed as much. The question is, what's wrong with the Grail? Why the early start and why didn't I get a Command Seal yet?"

"Rin, you misunderstand the Grail. It's his decision who gets a Command Seal, and while the founding families are usually the first to be chosen that is not an absolute rule. If the Grail hasn't chosen you, then it doesn't deem you fit to fight to claim it."

"What nonsense. I spent the past ten years of my life in preparation; how could anyone be more fit to participate in the War than me?"

"The answer to that question would be obvious to just about anyone who knows the real you, Rin."

"W-what do you mean by that?"

"Simply that you don't desire the Grail strongly enough for it to answer your will to fight," the fake priest said in his usual monotone voice.

"That's complete nonsense," she protested vehemently.

"Believe what you wish," he sighed. "You alone can make or unmake your delusions, after all. Moving onto more important topics, the reason for the Grail to be acting up so early lies in the end of the last War. As the winner rejected the prize of the conflict ten years ago, the Grail had never consumed its power to fulfill a wish. As such, it took only a portion of the intended time to return to a proper condition to start another War. However, I believe that the meddling of the Einzberns might have changed the way the Servants are summoned."

"What do you mean?"

"It's my belief that the Einzberns have forced the Grail to assign them a Command Seal and to summon a Servant before it had reached its full power. If I had to guess, I think that the Grail is now assigning a Command Seal every time he gathers enough power to do so, where normally he would wait to be fully charged and then choose the Masters at the same time."

"Wait," Rin halted him, "if what you're saying it's true, then it means that there might be an interval of several weeks or even months before each Master is chosen."

"That would be a logical assumption. Berserker was summoned over two months ago, Caster around five weeks later. By my estimation, the next Servant could be summoned in a little over a month. If you sharpen your resolve by then, the Grail might actually choose you this time."

"Hmpf. I don't need you of all people to tell me that," she said. "What do you plan to do with Caster's new Master?"

"Nothing at all," he replied with that annoying calmness of his. "So long as they don't act in a manner that would compromise the secret, then there is no reason for me to move against them. Besides, what would you expect me to do? Barring betrayals on the Servant's part, only another Master and Servant could properly fight against them."

"Nevermind. I see that I have to take care of everything myself in this instance. Well, thank you for nothing I guess."

"I wish you the best of luck then," he said amiably…as amiably as Kirei could, anyway. "Try not to get yourself killed before the War has even properly started, would you?"

Rin left the building without bothering to reply. She had more pressing things to deal with. The preparations for the summoning were complex and time consuming, not to mention that she had lost to Guilford her family pendant, which had several years of stored Prana. She had intended to use it to fuel her ritual and to summon a Servant of the Saber class when the time came. Now she would have to start from scratch, hoping that the Grail would acknowledge her as worthy of being a Master.

All in all, she did not expect to be in a fouler mood after her meeting with Kirei, but in all honesty, she should have seen it coming.

* * *

><p>"You appear to be amused, Kirei," a smooth voice said from a corner of the chapel.<p>

"Why, I certainly am. The War has yet to properly, begin and yet the aspiring contestants are slaughtering each other just to participate in the conflict."

"What a bunch of lowlifes curs," the golden haired man said as he stepped out from the darkness. "Biting and barking at each other for a treasure they have no right to hold. Dogs and thieves the lot of them."

"Ah, but it's at a time like this that a few worthy individuals step up to the challenge, don't they? The mad barking of rabid dogs is bound to gather the attention of far more interesting people, if anything."

"Hmpf," the golden man scoffed, unconvinced. "I shall trust your judgment in this regard. You have always provided the best sort of entertainment, after all. I shall look forward to whatever show you set up this time."

"I won't disappoint, King of Heroes."

"See that you do not, Kirei. A bored King is a dangerous one."

Kirei held back his remark that the King in front of him was dangerous just about all the time, choosing to bow politely as he watched him leave. In the past ten years they had developed an odd relationship, similar to that of a King with his confidant, but Kirei never once deluded himself into thinking that Gilgamesh considered him a friend. He knew quite well that the golden king considered him no more than a playwright, a subject that worked for his amusement.

It was only because he was looking forward to the next Grail War that Gilgamesh had not yet cleansed the putrid modern world that sullied his eyes. That was probably the only thing they truly had in common: an unlimited amount of patience. Yes, patience. For even if the King of Heroes was a temperamental man with no tolerance to everything and anything he perceived as not up to his standards, he knew how to wait for a fruit to be ripe before picking it.

And so Kirei would strive to satisfy the King's expectation. Not so much because he cared whether he was satisfied or not, but because he knew that whatever amused the incarnated Hero would likely entertain himself even more.

* * *

><p><em>'That's strange,'<em> Adachi Tohru mused as he closed his cell phone. That morning he had been ready to receive a call from his nameless employer to confirm that the girl he intended to kidnap had in fact been abducted. At that point, he was supposed to report any and all progress his colleagues made in the following investigation…but apparently there was no missing girl at all.

He immediately tried to call his employer to ask what had changed and why hadn't he been informed. There was no answer. He tried several times, and each and every time the line was disconnected. Something was extremely wrong. When someone disappeared without warning during a job, then it probably meant that said someone had been compromised.

Adachi wasn't a fool. The money for him was just an added bonus to the amusement he got from playing other people from the shadows. He wasn't greedy, and he had no intention of spending any time in jail. As soon as he realized that the situation was no longer safe, he got rid of that number, which wasn't registered in his name but "confiscated" from a criminal a few months back; emptied the bank account he used to receive his payment, the one registered under an assumed identity; and generally cut any ties he had made with the ongoing operations.

It was better to lay low for a while, but that didn't mean he would remain inactive. He had to make sure that whatever had happened to his "business partner" hadn't exposed him as well. So far he only had an address out of town linked to the telephone number he used to contact him. He wasn't stupid enough to go check out the place immediately. Someone might keeping an eye on it, after all.

He could, however, take a look into that Tohsaka girl's life and see why a man was willing to pay considerable amounts of money to get his hands on her. Certainly, if someone was willing to go to such lengths, then there had to be something worth the effort, right?

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Not really much to say about this one. I hope you enjoyed and thanks for all the reviews.<p> 


	16. Arrangements

**Chapter 15 – Arrangements**

(Published: 11.11.12 - Beta: Cloud Link Zero, Zaralann)

* * *

><p>Shirou returned home alongside Caster in complete silence. Both of them had their own thoughts to deal with.<p>

For Shirou, the Holy Grail War was a returning nightmare. The possibility of a repetition of that tragedy was enough to make his blood boil. He didn't know what the Servant by his side wanted to do now that she knew of the truth behind the Grail. Her wish was simple and straightforward enough, but the Grail couldn't make it real unless she knew already how to realize it herself. Therefore, unless there was a energy requirement that only the Grail could provide she had no longer need to obtain it.

The problem was that she still had to survive a conflict where being killed was the requirement for the other competitors to win.

Sure, he had every intention of telling the same story to every Master and Servant he came across, but that didn't mean they would believe or listen to him. Worse, there could also be people who wanted nothing more than watch the world burn. He couldn't dismiss the possibility that the corrupted Grail would reach out to such sympathetic individuals.

That meant he couldn't just flat out reveal what he knew of the Grail without knowing the intentions of the others Servants and their Masters. However he could also hardly waltz into battle and demand to know their motives.

The easiest way out was to eliminate indiscriminately every Servant, no question asked, but then again that was something Emiya Shirou was unable to do. That in turn meant that his way through the coming conflict was going to be the hardest of all. Admittedly, it wasn't something he could accomplish on his own and truth to be told, not even if he had a Servant of his own.

He needed to become stronger, that much was painfully clear, but he also needed to form alliances with sympathetic Masters and their Servants if he wanted the tiniest of hope for this conflict to reach something akin to a happy ending.

There was of course just one person that Shirou could consider trustworthy enough to approach and discuss the matter with: Tohsaka Rin. The heir of one of the founding families was one of the most likely to be selected as a Master in lieu of her history with the Grail and he knew enough of her character to be fairly sure she wouldn't misuse his knowledge of the War.

The point was, would she be willing to trust him as much as he trusted her?

Truth to be told, Shirou wasn't that sure about it. In spite of their recent amicable history, Shirou had still to confront her as a practitioner of the Craft. Magi were a bunch of suspicious people, and suddenly revealing himself to her as a Magus after all she had already gone through because of the war, she was likely to be wary of him, if not outright distrusting him for keeping this secret so long after becoming friends.

Yeah, he couldn't see her taking it well at all. He would refrain from contacting her about it until he was certain she would be a Master. If and when she summoned her own Servant she would be more likely to listen to what he had to say. People were far more inclined to trust others when they weren't at their most vulnerable after all.

That being said, there were many thing he needed to prepare. As soon as he could he would go over the material he took from Guilford's Workshop and see what he could use to his advantage.

* * *

><p>To be completely honest Medea could count herself to be extremely lucky, all things considered.<p>

Being summoned by a horrible Master aside, the recent turn of events could count as an actual blessing. True, the Grail was not what she expected it to be and while that definitely wasn't something she could consider positive, the fact that she managed to discover it so soon gave her enough time to plan different options.

Yes, surviving the War hadn't become any easier a task but with far more knowledge and time at her disposal than most other Servants she definitely had the upper hand. In addition to that she was completely unbound, no longer restricted by another person's whims and desires and to make things better she was on amicable terms with a capable combat oriented Magus.

That didn't mean they would remain allies in the long run, but so long as she didn't openly act in way that conflicted with his moral compass it was unlikely that he would turn against her. Heroes were predictable like that but in this instance it was a good thing,

That being said, her utmost priority was to assess exactly how much time she had before the war officially started. In all likelihood the other Masters wouldn't show up on the battlefield long before the conflict started, unless they were native of the city. It was a risky bet to expose themselves too soon unless there was a chance to acquire some sort of advantage.

On that note, Vincent plan hadn't been a bad one, it was just poorly executed. Getting his hands on a potential enemy Master before she had summoned her Servant and 'sway' her to his cause was an excellent idea. Now she had the chance to implement it better, thanks in good measure the her new acquaintance. She didn't know what his relationship with the Tohsaka girls was, but she had little doubt that if she played her cards right she could manipulate her through him.

The two most pressing concerns she currently had were obtaining a stable source of Prana and finding a base of operation from where she could establish all future projects.

As she pondered these topics they completed the trip back to his house.

"Caster," he said as they approached the gate to his home. "do you have any idea of what you're going to do from now on?"

"I'm a bit at loss for plans as of now," she lied smoothly. "There are a number of things I need to consider before deciding anything."

"I understand. I don't suppose you have a place to stay either."

"No," she replied calmly, "though I don't really have need for a roof or anything."

"I see. Well, feel free to remain here as long as you wish."

"Truly?" she asked a little taken aback by such an open invitation. Though she planned of asking it herself she did not expect to be asked first. Could it be that he was planning something himself? "Why would you want me to remain here?... Not that I am displeased with it."

"Well," he chuckled, " it would really be bad form if I took you off the street only to force you back on it not a day later, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose, but I don't really think that is all there is to it."

"Caster, is there something wrong in helping somebody just because I can?"

"Shirou-san, as one who walks the path of Magi you should know that in this world nothing is for free. There is always a price to pay for everything we take."

"Well then, since it's not you taking anything but me offering it there shouldn't be such a problem to begin with, right?"

"… Perhaps," she finally conceded. Again she found herself unable to grasp his motives. She didn't think he had any nefarious intention as far as she was concerned, but she wasn't able to relax so long as she didn't grasp a situation entirely. Well, whatever the reason it still all worked in her favor.

"Look, it's not like you have to stay here permanently. If you wish to stay until you find another place for yourself that's fine too."

"… Thank you," she finally replied. "I shall take upon your kind offer then."

"Great. Feel free to consider this place home as long as you like."

And with that they finally walked past the gates and into the quiet atmosphere of Emiya household.

* * *

><p>Life changing events and world-shattering revelations usually come without any forewarning.<p>

Such was the tremendous and cruel truth that Fujimura Taiga was forced to acknowledge one sunny afternoon as she went about her business, which happened to be freeloading at her acquired younger brother.

She never saw it coming, though it explained a great deal about her ward's character. For years she wondered if the redhead just wasn't into females but the scene in front of her eyes explained why he never seemed to take any interest in one of the many attractive girls that seemed to gravitate around him for a reason or another.

Emiya Shirou was into older women.

Of course she didn't expect to find out during a surprise visit at lunchtime, when Shirou was supposed to be bedridden with a cold, while he actually looked healthier than ever and apparently in sweet company. To be honest she would have been secretly proud, and she still was to a minor extent, for the sheer gall of pretending to be sick just to spend time with his girlfriend.

If only that… that… that woman didn't have the impudence of sitting at her place at the table, eating Shirou's handmade food that was meant to be hers and hers alone.

Of course in front of such an affront there was just one appropriate and reasonable reaction:

**"SHIROOOOOOOOU!"**

And so the Earth shook and the Heavens trembled under the fiery rage of the Tiger of Fuyuki.

* * *

><p>Aw, crap. Why the hell was Taiga even there at that hour? Oh, right. She didn't have any classes that afternoon and Archery practice didn't begin until much later. It wasn't surprising that she'd come to check on him, since he was supposedly sick in bed but he completely forget to consider the eventuality of her dropping by with all the other things he was concerned about.<p>

And there she found him, sitting at the table with a foreign woman of which Taiga didn't know a thing about. Knowing her as he did, there was no doubt she'd think he made up his illness just to be home alone with Caster.

Which happened to be the truth in this instance, but he was ready to bet that Fuji-nee would come to the worst possible conclusion about the actual reason for his lie.

"What's the meaning of this, Shirou? Who is this person?" she asked pointing a finger at a surprised but somewhat amused Caster.

"Ah… Fuji-nee. I didn't expect you to come by for lunch," he tried to buy time while his brain worked out to come up with a believable excuse.

"Of that I have no doubt. Explain yourself. NOW!"

"It's a bit of a complicated story you see," he replied sweating bullets.

"I'm all ears."

She was practically in his face at that point, and Shirou could bet she was about to bite him when the one way slaughter was brought to a temporary suspension by the sound of a small cough from the side.

"Excuse me," Caster said with an apologetic tone of voice from her sitting place. "I don't mean to intrude but perhaps it would be best if it was me who explained the situation."

"It would?" Shirou asked, not really sure if it actually was a good idea. They didn't have time to go over a story to explain Caster presence in his house. Sure he was glad that the Servant had caught up quickly and didn't seem like he wanted to hypnotize Taiga, but Shirou didn't know what sort of excuse she could come up with, and just how Taiga would react to it.

"Oh? And who exactly are you anyway?" Taiga asked crossing her arms over her chest, turning around to face Caster with all the power of her wrath. "What are your intentions toward my coo… Shirou?"

"Fuji-nee…," Shirou sighed rubbing his temples, not missing the slip of her tongue and thus the real reason for her rage.

"My name is Megissa," Caster replied without losing a beat, "and the story behind my being here is rather long."

* * *

><p><strong><span>An hour later<span>**

"Uuuuhhh," Taiga wept, wiping her tear-filled eyes. "And so," she sniffed, "after making you break all ties with your family and stealing your inheritance that no-good of your husband just run off with another woman?"

"That is exactly so," the newly named Megissa confirmed sorrowfully. "If Emiya-san here hadn't kindly offered me food and shelter yesterday I don't know how long I would have survived. Without money and in a foreign country I…," she trailed off, leaving the rest to Taiga's overactive imagination. "But I understand how my presence here is improper. I shall leave immediately."

"NO!" Taiga cried out, stopping the other woman already in the process of standing up. "There is no need for that. Please, even though you are just a freeloader make use of Shirou as long as you need."

"O-oi… Fuji-nee," Shirou sweat-dropped, "should you really be saying something like that?"

"Are you saying that you would rather have Megissa-san living on the streets after all that happened to her already? Shirou, I taught you better than that."

"Shirou-san?" Caster echoed pitifully, staring at him with the eyes of a kicked puppy, though Shirou could definitely see a glint of amusement behind that. She was certainly having a laugh at his expenses though she hid it well.

"Why am I suddenly the bad guy here? I already said that she could stay as long as she wanted. Sheesh."

"Then it's settled," Taiga declared proudly. "Until you manage to get back on your feet have no fear of using Shirou and this place."

"I am in your care then," Caster said bowing respectfully to them both. She was good at putting up a façade.

"No need to be modest," Taiga laughed. "Well then, I should really go back now. Shirou I'll come back for dinner. Make sure to cook enough food for everyone. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure thing Fuji-nee," Shirou agreed. No way he'd let Taiga go starving for his own good and the world's as well.

The hyperactive woman left in a happier mood that she arrived, something Shirou was glad of.

"That was interesting," Caster said, swiftly returning to her usual composed demeanor when they both heard the gates closing behind Taiga.

"Yeah," Shirou chuckled. "Sorry about that."

"There is no need to apologize. Your guardian's concern is understandable, though I'm curious about the circumstances that caused a Magus to be the ward of a normal person."

"It's actually pretty simple to be honest," he explained. "Kiritsugu had plenty of enemies, many of which don't have a problem with moving their grudges onto me. In order to protect me until I could do it myself dad made me blend in with normal people, cutting all ties with Magi's society. To the best of my knowledge only another person knows of my Magus status."

"Only one? Who would that be?"

"A teacher from my school, actually. Let's just say that he has a big secret that he wishes to remain so and he returns the favor by keeping mine."

"A fair exchange, I suppose," she agreed. Far from having the mentality of a modern age Magus, Caster was far more accepting of him sharing his secret with a normal person. Well, not exactly normal in Kuzuki's case.

"Anyway, thank you for not using any Magecraft on Fuji-nee. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," she returned his gratitude. "It would hardly count as proper behavior to put a compulsion over my host's family, especially when a far less invasive approach is available."

"That's true, So… should I call you Megissa-san from now on?"

"I would rather be address by my title when we can converse freely," she replied. "I am not overly fond of that name if I have to be honest."

"Why is that?"

"It's the term for Witch, in my native tongue. An appellative that has been used far too often where I was concerned."

"Then… why use it at all?"

"Because no matter how much I dislike it, it's still fitting for one such as myself."

* * *

><p>Perhaps she had said too much, Caster reasoned in hindsight. She wanted to keep her real name under wrap as much as possible but she also realized that unless she was willing to make the boy into her thrall, a modicum of personal information had to be shared.<p>

The boy seemed to be awfully forward in that regard and he had already specified that he had no prejudice toward Anti-Heroes in general. Therefore sharing that knowledge was a very small concession on her part, and a good way to test his character.

"Witch, uh?" he mused aloud. "That does sounds rather derogatory. Nevermind, I will call you Caster as much as I can. Just know that I happen to have visitors almost every day at breakfast and dinner so I must ask you to be patient with this."

"It's all right," she conceded. "It's the intent that is used by that word that makes the difference. I shall not perceive it as an insult in this context."

"Good. That being said is there something you need? The Prana I gave you should last until tomorrow but perhaps we should start looking into a way to provide it in a more stable manner."

"The option of us making a contract is still available but I was thinking of another less binding way."

"What did you have in mind?"

"As a Servant of the Caster Class I'm able to perform all task and rituals of a Magus, save for creating my own Prana. If I were to link to a leyline nexus I should be able to sustain myself indefinitely."

"Like the Grail System does? Wouldn't that be damaging the people in town? There is already a considerable drain from the Grail."

That was what she thought he would object. He was right in saying that if she started draining more than she needed to maintain her existence people would suffer, but that was true only if she actually started using the leyline intensively to cast several high ranked spells. Well, if he didn't raise even the slightest objection to her plan it would either mean he was an idiot or that she had severely overestimated him.

"Only if I exaggerate," she explained carefully. "Simply sustaining myself and casting low level spells over the course of several days would hardly be felt by anyone. However, if I were forced in using high level Thaumaturgy people would start weakening and if pushed too far even dying. "

"Oh," he blinked. "All right then. Just make sure to be prudent, would you?"

Eh?… Just like that? He was going along with her plan with just a mild advice to use caution? Not that she wanted to complain but she had thought he would oppose every action that could potentially jeopardize innocent lives. Had she misread him so badly?

"Are you not afraid that I could abuse it?" she asked, honestly curious. She had pegged him for being the kind of hero that would only see things black or white. "Once the link is established it would take very little effort on my part to access enormous amounts of power at the expense of the inhabitants of this city."

"Of course I am," he replied, actually surprised that she asked such a thing.

"Then why are you supporting my plan?"

"… Caster," he began slowly, as if pondering his next words carefully, "are you saying that you would purposely harm innocent people?"

"I didn't say anything of the sort," she scowled at the accusation, "I merely pointing out that I could do so with ease."

"Then I don't really see your point."

"I'm saying that you don't really know anything about me. How can you be so sure I would not indulge in the possibility of draining the population of this city just to have a easily accessible stock of Prana?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't really understand why you are asking me this," he explained. "Caster, the moment I decided to save your life last night I already took into consideration that you could be a threat to just about everyone in this town."

… Her thought process halted at that. He was right, of course. Superhuman entities such as Servants are a potential risk to everyone just by existing. Yet, in spite of that he still decided to help her.

Right there and then she realized that she had severely misunderstood the person that was staring at her with kind but strong eyes.

"Then why did you save me in the first place?" she demanded to know through narrowed eyes. The possibility of him having a secret agenda had suddenly become much more realistic.

"Because I don't consider it acceptable to sacrifice someone who has yet to express the wish or the intention to harm innocent lives just to be on the safe side. And to be completely honest, if I were to eliminate every potential threat to other people's lives I would have to eradicate every single human being in this world."

He had a point, she admitted to herself. The greatest threat to a person's life was every other human being. On that note, simply letting her disappear would have diminished the probably of bystanders being hurt in the crossfire. But apparently, the thought of killing as the first choice to avoid a potential problems was repugnant to the red haired boy. But still…

"… What are you going to do if I turn out to be such a person? What would you do if I actually am an evil witch who kills innocents for her personal gain?"

He closed his eyes for a moment and when he reopened them it was like staring into golden steel.

"Then I would take responsibility for having saved your life and stop you myself," he proclaimed. There was not a threat or a warning in his voice but simply a honest statement of intent. The declaration of a resolution made before she even begun considering how he would react to her schemes.

Yes… she had severely underestimated him. She had thought, considering his approach and motives, that he was a naïve boy with no real grasp of the harshness of reality, someone who believed the best from other people. That was still probably true, but it wasn't a product of ignorance but rather a clear and deliberate choice.

It wasn't like he didn't understand how dangerous was the path he was treading on by associating with her. From the very beginning he realized all the implications of his choices and was willing to shoulder the consequences, by putting his life on the line if needed be. Even to someone like her a person like him couldn't be considered just a mere _boy_.

"I understand," she acquiesced respectfully after a long moment of tense silence. "I will make sure to be careful then."

It was hardly a promise of any sort. She intended to be careful in any case for a number of reasons that had nothing to do with him or his moral compass, but it nevertheless gave her a way out of the situation without openly disregarding his words. It was the best way to avoid a unnecessary conflict with the person who currently amounted as her only resource and contact . Besides, she had no reason to force her way as of now, reasoning that she could deal with him at any time if he turned out to be an annoyance later on. At the moment he was too useful of a resource to discard on a whim or to break into a mindless thrall. In any case she intended to keep a low profile until the war was actually started. Drying the leylines wasn't definitely the best way to achieve that.

"Thank you," he said with a warm smile. "That's all I ask for. Now, if you don't mind there is a number of things I need to check out. In the meantime feel free to move around as you please. If that's all right with you I can show you to the closest nexus later today."

"I would appreciate that. I shall be in the room you gave me last night until that time. It would be better if I rested as much as possible to preserve my resources."

"Of course," he agreed. "If you need anything feel free to ask."

"I will keep that in mind. Thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>Emiya household: Dojo<strong>

Half an hour later Shirou was sitting cross legged in the middle of his dojo. The quiet atmosphere of the wooden building helped relieve the pressure built up after lunch. The situation with Caster could be defined as very tense, if one was in the mood for euphemisms. It was obvious even to him that she didn't like being told what to do, unsurprisingly since she was the member of a category famous for their egos among other things.

He could tell that Caster he didn't particularly care about the well being of the people around her, but that could hardly be considered a reason to put her down, since the same could be said of a great number of human beings. Just because she had a greater chance and ability to become a threat to others wasn't enough of a reason to be hostile to her.

He had made his position perfectly clear, and though it had obviously put a strain on their budding relationship, Shirou couldn't feel bad about it. Whether she turned to be a good or a bad person it was Caster's decision entirely. It would have been arrogant of him to judge her before she actually committed any act that could be defined harmful or evil.

Like he said, if he considered the potential for being evil as a reason good enough to kill someone then he would become just like Kiritsugu had been. That was the one thing he would never allow because the only thing that awaited down that path was…

Never mind. He made his choice and he was happy with it. If he actually turned against Caster, driving her into a corner even before she did a thing to warrant it there was no doubt that she would really become the person he feared she could be.

No, if she didn't pursue her wish by hurting innocent bystanders he would support her as much as he could. It was after all the main purpose for his choice of being a Hero: allowing other people to live happy and peaceful lives. So long as Caster didn't become someone who denied other people's chance at life he would stand by her as long as she needed.

As usual, in times of doubt he turned to the Scabbard inside him. Focusing on the soft warmth that spread within his chest, Shirou found confirmation of his choice. Avalon hummed quietly inside him, as if approving his course of action. So long as its light shined inside him, he was sure he was on the right path.

Yes, Caster needed help more than anyone he met in his life so far. Even though she was no longer risking to die she had yet to be truly saved. It was perhaps the greatest personal challenge Shirou had come to face until now, but he was more than willing to step up to it.

With that out of his mind, he turned into a trance-like state and resumed the usual exercises her had been forced to skip the past few days. The last thing he needed was to get sloppy at a time like this.

* * *

><p><strong>London: Clock Tower<strong>

The Mage Association, better known as Clock Tower due to its position beneath the famous monument in the middle of London, was the place where Magi gathered to share what little knowledge they were willing to partake from in exchange for different knowledge and resources to continue their experiments.

In spite of being inhabited by rich, cultured and well educated people it was a place more similar to a shark-filled pool rather than any institute of learning. Betrayal, blackmailing and underhanded politicking were the standard, and the social status of every member hinged heavily on their ability to use such things to their advantage. The only thing valued more than heritage and money was talent, but even the most gifted individual was nothing more than a valuable resource if they didn't have the skills and political backing to survive in that environment.

Among all those a few individual distinguished themselves from the masses through sheer character, even though they had no remarkable talent or a strong family connection

One of such persons was Waver Velvet, the second Lord El-Melloi. A once scrawny and insecure boy who grew into one of the most prominent figures among the educational part of the Association.

Being born as an average Magus from an equally average family, Waver firmly believed that enough effort could make up for missing talent, and he made no mystery of it even during his teen years. It was a testament to his strength of character, considering that he managed to rise through the ranks of an Organization where such a theory was nothing short of blasphemy.

Truth to be told, the most violent death of his former teacher, Lord Archibald El-Melloi, and subsequent loss of his family Crest had offered Waver the opportunity to prove his theory with the backing of a family who still held much power within the organization in spite of having lost the entirety of their heritage.

Taking the mantle of Lord El-Melloi, Waver quickly demonstrated that a driven individual could offer a great number of things to the Magi's community. Even if he still was to this day an average Magus at best he was also one of the most well regarded teachers of the entire association. None of his students ever graduated with anything less than "Grand" and that ability made him extremely well accepted in high circles in spite of his "cheap" lordship.

Waver, of course, cared nothing for the acknowledgement of old men who lived of the accomplishment of the past but he was forced to recognize that being on their good side helped smooth things with the funding for his researches.

Now, that was something worth talking about. His research team was something to be proud of. The most promising students, all coming from families with no ties with the nobility of the association had a place in his projects.

Their very existence was a slap in the face of the common belief that history was everything that mattered when it came to Thaumaturgy. So many ground shaking advancement were made by his team that the most prominent figures of the association could no longer disregard them or brush them off.

That was his greatest accomplishment. Though it wasn't publicly acknowledged he had managed to prove that talent wasn't everything and to make things better all of his assistants looked up to him with honest respect born from his unfaltering leadership.

Harnessing the support of those who believed in him and in turn leading them toward distant goals and through seemingly impossible challenges. He hadn't forgotten the lesson taught by his King. Even now as the last living retainer of the King of Conquerors he held his head high and his back straight as he strode confidently down the path of his choice.

It was small, and perhaps insignificant compared to Iskandar's many accomplishments, but so long as Waver lived like that the reign of his King would keep spreading, if only a little.

Such was the promise he made to himself every day, even now as he was summoned by the elders of his acquired family.

_"There is a matter we wish you to take care of,"_ they told him cryptically over the phone.

That wasn't anything good. The old crones had never been particularly forthcoming with him, as expected from senile old Magi, but so long as he delivered concrete results to make up for their loss of prestige they didn't even bother him. Not much at least.

Now they actually required his presence in person, something that they didn't bother with from the day he took the lordship. Something was already smelling extremely foul and Waver had little doubt that he was about to get a mouthful of whatever was rotting under the table.

When the car entered the perimeter of the luxurious mansion that belonged to the El-Melloi since ancient times, Waver schooled his features into the emotionless mask the needed to stand in presence of the elders. Their relationship had always been cold at best and Waver was not mistaken in thinking that they wouldn't give him the time of a day if it wasn't for their precarious situation.

He was truly not looking forward to meeting them

Five minutes and several flight of stairs later, Waver was standing in front of the humongous double doors that opened over the family meeting hall.

Pushing them open with a loud creaking noise he stepped inside the wide space decorated by luscious tapestries and with several windows that opened over the estate surrounding the mansion.

"Good morning esteemed elders," he greeted walking in.

"Welcome home Waver, please have a sit," the elder man sitting at the end of the table invited. Without missing a beat under the stare of the gathered people, Waver took his place at the head of the long table, to the extreme opposite of the man who spoke moments before.

In spite of the seemingly kind welcome, Waver could tell that he was anything but. It might have had to do with him stealing the relic of the previous Lord and therefore having a part in his death and the loss of his Crest, but Waver honestly thought that if Archibald had been paired with the King of Conquerors he would have found his demise far more swiftly.

That was just his opinion though, and he had no way to prove it to the rest of the world. To be honest, if Iskandar had been able to teach the trembling Waver how to stand like a proud man he might have been able to instill a sense of humility the late Archibald.

Then again, the fact that the now deceased Master of Lancer had strolled into a deathly battle, carrying his family's legacy without a second thought meant that he was too much of an idiot to stop and listen to anyone.

In short he had been a complete fool and the responsibility of losing centuries of accumulated Magecraft laid solely on his shoulders, no matter what his surviving relatives thought about it. Then again, Magi were fast like few others into shifting the responsibility of their own folly onto others, one of the many reasons why Waver was detached from the more traditional side of the community.

"My apologies for the wait," he told politely as he sat. "I was quite engrossed in an experiment when I received your call and putting a proper stop to the procedure took longer than I predicted. Now, I understand there is something you wished to discuss with me.

"Ah, Waver," the old man acknowledged, "always in a rush, just like the rumor says. It is no wonder you hardly ever visit these days."

"I'm sorry," he replied coldly, "I was under the impression that the last time we met like this I was told, and I quote, _'to hurry up and work my back off to restore to prestige I contributed to tarnishing'_._"_

"Yes," the old man admitted without remorse or shame, "that is what we said back then and I must admit that you have exceeded all our expectations, though the road to return to our former prestige is still quite long."

"That being said, I suppose that the reason for this summoning has something to do with this topic."

"Indeed. It has recently come to our attention that it could be possible to accelerate, so to speak, the acquisition of a Crest."

"… I beg your pardon?" Waver asked bewildered. "I think I just misheard you."

"You heard perfectly well. There are ways to obtain a Crest if one is willing to take the appropriate steps."

"If this is about a marriage proposal…"

"Nothing of the sort, Waver," the man eased him up, though Waver wasn't feeling any more relaxed. "Even if your descendants could actually inherit a Crest the Archibald family would gain nothing from it. No, I was talking of a …donation from a lesser family from a oriental country."

"Excuse me," he almost chuckled, "last time I checked the transmission of a Crest to anyone but a close blood relative is deadly in ninety-five percent of the attempts and it would imply the destruction of the Circuits as well."

"Yes, yes. Your knowledge is correct but as you have aptly stated the procedure is risky, but not impossible. There are ways to increase the success rate if one is willing to… compromise."

"What kind of compromise are we talking about?" Waver asked already fearing the response.

"Have you ever heard of Rule of Blood, Waver?"

To his credit Waver didn't give in to the impulse of bolting upright and shout in the old man's face. No, he elegantly pinched his nose and let out a barely audible sigh.

"Let me get this straight, you have contacted a notorious Sealing Designate with homicidal tendencies and a penchant for playing Frankenstein with his victims, to forcibly procure you a Crest from a family with little to no connection with the Organization, but with enough personal history to have a considerable magical value?"

"That is exactly so," the former family head confirmed with a nod.

**_'ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANEEEE?'_**

That was what Waver was thinking in that precise moment, though the only outward sign he gave was the nervous twitching of his left eyebrow and he refrained from lifting the table and smashing it violently over the senile old fool.

"Do you realize that if the upper echelons of the Association ever caught wind of any of this, they would strip us of whatever power the name or Archibald still carries and if they were in a particular bad mood send us to the lowest levels for associating with a fugitive? What possessed you to make such a… hazardous choice?"

Hazardous wasn't quite the word he wanted to use, but he thought that giving into foul language would hardly get his concern across.

"We are perfectly aware of the risks involved, Waver and the advantages simply outweighed them by a good measure. We do have very little to lose in this regard."

Yeah. Waver agreed with that. THEY had very little to lose. HIM on the other hand had ten years of hard work and several subordinates who trusted him and followed his lead that risked being banned from the Organization just for having associated with him.

If the knowledge of this came out his researches would be shut down, his team disbanded and he would spend the rest of his life in a cage so deep underground that the sunlight would be just a pale memory of the past by the time he got out. If he got out at all.

All because a bunch of wizened buffoons couldn't stand the thought of making an actual effort to restore what they had lost.

"I see," he replied with cold rage. "I suppose that since you are bothering to tell me this your contact has managed to secure what you required."

"Actually, that is not quite the case."

"Please tell me that he didn't screw up," he came out too much like a plead, but honestly, what the hell.

"We don't know. The last time we spoke he had guaranteed that he was about to get his hand on a suitable Crest, but he failed to report when expected and all our flowing attempts at contacting him have failed entirely."

"Uh. So maybe if we are lucky he died horribly without having a chance to divulge our involvement."

"I would hardly count that as being fortunate, Waver," the man scowled. "But that is beside the point. What we require of you is to travel to Japan and ascertain what happened. If Guilford has indeed failed at his task you have to remove all evidences that could connect him to us and if he's still alive hold him to his half of the bargain. We have already paid a considerable price for his services."

"In advance? Just what exactly did you give him?"

"Several crates of spiritual influenced alloys and other raw materials he was adamant he needed to perform what we required of him and that we would consider them as an advance payment. He signed a binding contract that he would uphold his word, but there was no determinate delivery date."

"So he might just be trying to wiggle his way out by buying time, I see. Well, then I suppose there is nothing more to say. I shall make immediate preparation to depart for Japan. Were exactly is this person last known location?"

"… Fuyuki city," the man replied as if he had swallowed something particularly sour.

"Oh, damn it," Waver replied in agreement. Not being one to believe in coincidences of this magnitude, he could already tell that things were bound to get much worse before they got any better.

* * *

><p><strong>Fuyuki city: Ryuudo Temple -Evening<strong>

Shirou and Caster headed toward the Temple at the top of the mountain. It was one of the four points in town where the leyline crossed and where it was easier to access them.

Putting aside the friction of that early afternoon, Shirou and Caster agreed that it was the best location of the ritual to connect the Servant to the native stream of energy. It also happened to be situated above the central part of the Grail System, that was buried deep inside the mountain and covered with several layers of powerful Bounded Fields to prevent tampering.

Even Servants could hardly get past the immensely powerful defenses. In fact, the only way for a spiritual entity to access the mountain was the set of stairs that climbed all the way to the top. If they tried to enter from any other direction they would rapidly lose their strength.

"It's no use then?" Shirou asked as Caster examined the invisible barrier.

"Yes," she admitted without making an effort to hide her displeasure. "This Boundary Field is especially made to ward off spiritual entities. I believe that the makers of system wanted to prevent tampering specifically from my Class."

"Uh. I hoped you could dismantle them somehow," Shirou replied dejectedly.

"Oh, I could do that quite easily but I have to give credit to whomever put these up and refrain from doing so."

"What do you mean?"

"You see, normally a Boundary Field is erected to protect a specific location and while it may draw from the natural energy of the place it's essentially a separate thing."

"I guess this isn't what we have here?"

"Indeed. In this instance the Wards are part of the Grail System itself. Dismantling them is not impossible but it would be no different from… what could it be a proper modern analogy? Ah, like removing part of an… engine while it's running at full power."

"Nevermind," Shirou commented in understanding. No doubt if they messed up with the System while it was at full power the backlash would be felt by the entire city if not by the entire region. It would make look the fire from ten years before like lighting a matchstick.

He had hoped that Caster could, with her knowledge of superior Magecraft, halt the Grail to prevent the war from happening altogether but it looked like there wasn't such an easy way out. As a human he could still go in there, presuming he could find the entrance, but once inside there was little he could do. It appeared there wasn't such a thing as an easy solution for this.

"It's a shame," Caster agreed. "If I managed to examine it from up close I could have been able to purify it."

"Seriously?"

"Perhaps. I cannot be certain but there is a good chance that I could do so even after it has manifested into a physical form, supposing that we could isolate it in some manner until I figured out a way to proceed."

"We can work on that later. Now we should take care of your Prana income. Come on, we are going up," he said pointing at the stairs.

"Lead the way," Caster agreed.

"By the way, a friend of mine lives here…."

* * *

><p>Issei Ryuudo didn't consider himself to be anything special, but he was confident with his ability to tell people apart. It came with being the son of a monk and it was further enhanced by his career as President of the Student Council.<p>

For that reason he was mildly surprised when his friend Emiya Shirou came to visit that evening. No, it wasn't his visit to be surprising, seeing his adoptive father was buried in the cemetery there, but rather the person accompanying him.

He was sweeping the gate when he saw them coming. Emiya spotted him from down the long flight of stairs that climbed up the mountain all the way to the temple. The redhead waved a greeting with his hand that Issei returned politely, but as his hand lowered and his eyes moved to his friend's companion he froze.

For the first time in his life Ryuudo Issei was completely stunned. The world around him shut off to the point that he couldn't hear Emiya saying something as he approached. The entirety of his senses were focused on the woman that was elegantly making her way up to him.

His veins were cold as ice but his heart was beating frantically in his chest. There was no doubt what he was feeling was…

"… ssei… ISSEI!"

"Ghaaa," he practically screamed when Shirou was forced to shout his name to catch his attention.

"Issei are you all right? You just sort of froze there for a moment," the redhead explained. "Are you sick or something?"

Moving away from woman now too close for comfort, Issei adjusted his glasses.

"No. I'm perfectly fine," he lied not looking at her. "I just spaced out for a moment. Anyway, what brings you here at this hour? You don't usually come visit your father grave and definitely not this late in the evening."

"Ah. No, it's not like that. I was just showing my friend around the city and the temple is one of the landmarks."

"Your friend?" he asked, turning to face the woman, trying his best to maintain his composed exterior. It would do no good to show that he knew something was afoul about her. Definitely no good.

"Yes," Shirou confirmed, much to Issei's charging. "Issei, this is Megissa-san, a friend from Europe. Megissa-san, this is Ryuudo Issei, a friend from school and the son of the Head Monk at this temple."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ryuudo-san," the… _thing_ greeted politely.

"Likewise, Megissa-san," he said in return. Showing hostility wasn't a good idea as of that moment.

"I was hoping I could show her around the temple, if you don't mind," Shirou said.

"No, of course not. Actually I should show you around myself."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's not an imposition at all. Please follow me."

Putting his broom aside he led them toward the main building, explaining the history of the place to both his visitors, though Shirou probably already knew most of it.

When they reached the main chamber, the woman named Megissa stopped in the middle of the room to look around, though Issei had the distinct impression she wasn't interested in the temple itself.

"Emiya-kun," he called out, "I would like to speak with you for a moment if you don't mind."

Much to his displeasure his friend turned to look at the woman who gave a short approving nod.

"What's up, Issei?"

"Not here," he hissed and grabbed his arm, pulling him into onto the nearby balcony. When he thought he had put enough of a distance between them and the … thing, Issei turned around to face his friend. "Emiya-kun, who exactly is that person you came here with?"

"Uh? I told you. She's a friend from Europe who's staying at my place for a while."

"Y-your place? Emiya, do you have any idea..? Look, I know this going to sound strange to you but that person isn't…," he trailed off.

"Isn't what?" Shirou's eyebrows furrowed.

"Isn't human," he whispered carefully so that she wouldn't overhear. He wasn't sure if his friend's lack of reaction was a good or a bad thing though.

"She isn't human," Shirou said with a tone that wasn't quite disbelieving as Issei would have liked. "How can you tell?"

"It's… a feeling I have. I know it might sound ridiculous but I have a good sixth sense when it comes to these things."

"A sixth sense?" his friend asked cocking an eyebrow. "What do you feel exactly?"

"I can't really explain, but sometimes I get this strange feelings from people that come by. Like they are… out of place."

"And Megissa-san feels like that to you? Out of place?"

"What? No, she feels completely wrong. Like she wasn't from this world to begin with and… Emiya-kun," he stepped back cautiously, "why does it looks like you aren't surprised by what I'm saying?"

"I'm surprised enough," he said rubbing his temple. "Honestly, I should have seen it coming. Tell me, Issei, does Tohsaka-san feels _out of place _to you?"

"Yes! Wait… Y.. You knew? You mean you can feel it as well?"

"To a degree, though probably for a different reason. Say, Issei, did Tohsaka-san feel like... _this_?"

It washed over him like… a wave of razors and he was forced to step further back. He didn't actually feel pain but it was like he had been scraped all over by tiny little blades. No, no it wasn't like Tohsaka at all. If he had to compare, the feeling he got from Tohsaka was like the lingering warmth of something that had been close to a flame while, right as of that moment, Shirou felt like the fire itself.

"Emiya… you…"

"Is there a problem?" a feminine voice asked from behind him. Issei didn't need to turn to understand he was caught between the friend he thought he knew and a creature that creeped the hell out of him just by existing.

"Yes," Shirou sighed, "it appears we have been found out already. As I told you, Issei-kun seems to have a keen eye for things outside the normal."

"I see," she acknowledged calmly. "Should I deal with him as agreed then?"

"O-oi… Emiya? If this is a joke…," but it wasn't a joke. He could tell by the look in his schoolmate's eyes. What the hell was going on? Was this person really Emiya Shirou?

"I'm really sorry Issei, but we can't have you running you mouth around. Do it, Caster."

"Wha…, " he didn't manage to finish his sentence that the woman appeared right in front of him, her eyes bearing down in his like bottomless pool.

Ryuudo Issei's world went dark and he knew no more.

* * *

><p>Shirou sighed as he watched Caster hypnotize his friend. He didn't like doing this, especially not to Issei to all people, but frankly he couldn't risk him saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. He had been lucky that it was Shirou who Issei spoke to about his sixth sense. If it had been another Magus, or worse, another Servant he had little doubt over Issei's chances to live through the consequences.<p>

He considered the option of revealing the truth to him, but it was a choice with unpredictable results especially so early in the conflict. With a number of other Magi coming to the city and six more Servants to be summoned, Issei would risk too much just by looking in the wrong direction.

It wasn't like Shirou didn't trust him to keep his secrets but the truth was that if Issei ever came across a Magus with the suspicion of him having a connection to a Servant things would get ugly. His long time friend would likely be caught into the crossfire of a war he had no reason to be involved with. Besides, if the situation ever changed he could have Caster remove the block on his memory.

He was snapped out of his musing by the sound of a footstep behind him. There, further down the balcony stood Kuzuki Soichirou, his school teacher and retired assassin. The look in his eyes was cold and calculating as usual, and was now focused on Issei's entranced face.

"Emiya-kun, what is this?" There was no hostility in his voice but it was clear that he expected a clear answer. Their relationship was odd and it was based on keeping each other secretes, so Shirou knew that Kuzuki would probably listen to all he had to say before making a decision. Differently from Issei, Kuzuki was perfectly able to hide his intentions and thoughts and more than capable of dealing with a serious threat to his person, on top of that. Honestly, if he wanted a capable person who wasn't a Magus to watch over things, Kuzuki Soichirou was the one he needed, if he was willing to cooperate.

As he thought this Shirou heard Caster shift in preparation to move, but Shirou held up his hand to stop her.

"It's all right," he said turning to her slightly. "He knows about me."

"Still…," she protested.

"Please, trust me on this," he asked before turning to the other man. "Kuzuki-sensei, I was hoping I could speak with you in private. Could you come over to my place later tonight?"

"… Agreed," the man said before returning from where he came from as if nothing had happened, leaving Shirou alone with Caster and the still hypnotized Issei.

"Who was that person?" Caster asked now by his side. "The way he moved and his lack of presence… is he an assassin?"

"You could tell that easily, huh. Nevermind, did you get what we came here for?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "The link with the nexus is properly established but unless I'm on these grounds the amount of energy I can call upon his limited."

"How limited?"

"Enough to sustain myself indefinitely but not enough for extended combat. Of course I can bolster my reserves by visiting periodically but that's about it."

"It should be fine for the time being," Shirou replied. "Until the war begins we should keep a low profile, focusing on preparing ourselves and set the battlefield to our advantage."

"I agree with that plan. I would also like to take a look at the materials you mentioned picking from my former Master's Workshop."

"Sure, but what for?"

"As a Servant of the Caster Class I'm bestowed with an A-Ranked Item Creation ability. With suitable materials and enough time at my disposal I can craft Mystic Codes of notable power."

"Really? That would be awesome," he said in actual admiration.

"Yes, though they will hardly be a match to the other Servants' Noble Phantasms unless we manage to get our hands on raw materials of exceeding quality even for my epoch."

"Honestly, I'll take whatever advantage I can get. That aside, is Issei going to be okay?"

"Yes, he will remember meeting you and showing us around but to his knowledge nothing particularly remarkable has happened. I also took the liberty to partially damper his ability to perceive the supernatural to avoid a similar situation when I come here again. He should still be able to perceive great amounts of Prana or a threatening presence, but as he is now he would not be able to tell the difference between a Servant and a human being unless it was going all out."

"Good job. It should help him avoid being noticed by eventual other Magi and Servants in turn. Thank you."

"My pleasure. Now, I believe we have other matters to attend to."

"You're right. Come on, let's get to it."

* * *

><p><strong>Emiya Household<strong>

It took them a good hour to drive the stolen van from the storehouse to Shirou's home, unload its contents into the workshop and drop the vehicle where it could be easily found. By the time Shirou catalogued everything with the help and appraising eye of Caster it was already time for dinner. Not wanting to incur again in the wrath of his sister, Shirou devoted himself to prepare the last meal of the day with fervor.

Admittedly, cooking helped soothe his mind a great lot, allowing him to put aside the recent concerns for a brief period of time. There hadn't been another tense moment with Caster but it was obvious that the Servant had retreated into herself a little more where he was concerned, and he actually caught her watching him as if apprising whether he was friend or foe.

On his part Shirou did his best to come out as amicable as possible but the Servant was reserved and hard to read. Still, there wasn't much he could do beside carrying on as normal. Their unspoken alliance was frail and probably based on the fact that neither was an immediate threat to the other.

He wasn't surprised. He was basically a stranger to her and while he shouldn't have given her any reason to mistrust him it wasn't unusual for Magi to have a secret agenda behind a hopeful façade. Trust was something difficult to gain but Shirou was anything but patient.

As a proof of his good intentions he allowed Caster to move around freely in his Workshop, something of which she was surprised of. It appeared that no matter the age, Magi treasured their secrets lot, but it wasn't like he had some amazing Mystery he wanted to keep secret and to be completely honest he also had no way to keep her out if she wanted in. His meager knowledge of Boundary Field couldn't hold a candle against that of a mage from the Age of Gods after all.

He so was utterly convicted of it that he couldn't immediately figure out what was wrong when she came out of the basement, occasionally glancing at him as if she wanted to ask something but without knowing how to ask. Finally, curiosity had won over what seemed to be pride, and with a bewildered expression she entered the living room holding his laptop open vertically in her hands like… well, like a book.

"What in the name of Hades is this book?" she asked entering the living room glaring at him. "No matter what kind of spell I use I cannot make the pages appear. And what's with this letters engraved on just one side? I tried everything but I cannot get a reaction. I cannot believe there is a Mystic Code from this era that I cannot comprehend. This is absurd."

"Uh," Shirou replied intelligently. "That's not a Mystic Code. Actually that's not a book either."

"What do you mean? It was in your Workshop and what else could it be with this shape?"

"Well," he reached out to push the start button.

"Wah!" Caster exclaimed dropping the piece of technology when it started up with a beeping noise.

"Wah!" Shirou exclaimed as well, as he dove to catch his not-so-cheap laptop before it hit the floor. "Safe!"

"You said it wasn't a Mystic Code," she protested stepping back a little.

"It isn't," he replied standing up again. "This is a computer. A tool made to process, store and transfer information. It doesn't work on Prana at all."

"I… the Grail didn't provide any information on such things," she admitted, blushing slightly at her loss of composure over what was a common tool. "Guilford didn't posses one either."

"I'm not surprised. It's a fairly recent invention and Magi from this era tend to despise technological advancement. Thinking about it, it was one of the main advantages my father had when dealing with most Magi."

"I see. You said it's used to store knowledge? How exactly does it work."

"Well, to be honest all the technicalities escapes me, but I can give you a general explanation if you'd like."

"That would be… appreciated."

* * *

><p>Matou Sakura was a girl that cherished one single thing in her life: the red haired Emiya Shirou. She had absolutely nothing else to live for. No reason to live through the nightmare that was her daily life.<p>

When she first met him she had already frozen her heart to the point that she no longer felt pain or cared about a thing. Truth to be told it was just a shell she had made for herself to continue living as a human being, but it was being slowly eroded by Matou Zouken sick Magecraft and lately from Shinji's abuse.

Because of the things she went through, because of the things she allowed her brother to do to her, because of the things she was made to crave Matou Sakura could never be his.

She had accepted that a long time ago, but even then when Tohsaka Rin stumbled into his life she feared to lose him to her. After everything had been already taken from her so that Rin could have it, Sakura wasn't all too pleased with forfeiting the one person she cared for to her lost sister.

She wanted to fight for him. She wanted to have him for herself. But why? Even if she managed to keep Rin at a distance, she could never be with him. She was too soiled for that and the thing she wanted less that giving him up to Rin was to stain him with her impurity.

Therefore, after a not small amount of internal debating she decided to step aside and allow Rin to make her move on him. Her former sister was perfect, after all. Elegant, kind, talented, beautiful. If nor for her personal grudge against her, Sakura wouldn't have any objection with her being with Shirou.

So for the sake of her loved one, she convinced herself that Tohsaka Rin was the right person for Shirou.

So who exactly was this person? Who the hell was this woman sitting so easily by his side like it was a common occurrence?

There she was, sitting at the table right by his side as they both fiddled with a laptop she hadn't seen before.

"Ah, good evening Sakura," her Senpai greeted. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you coming in."

He stood, closing the laptop as he did.

"Ano, Senpai… who is this person?"

"Right. Introductions are in order. Sakura, this is Megissa-san. She'll be my guest for a while. Megissa-san, this is Sakura Matou, a kohai and a good friend of mine."

"P-pleased to meet you," Sakura stuttered in surprise as she bowed. Guest? As she was living under the same roof as him?

"And I as well," the woman named Megissa bowed too after standing up.

"Now, since you arrived I'd say we should get started with dinner. I've already set up a few things and Taiga shouldn't be much later either."

"Oh, of course Senpai," she replied, rushing to get her apron. "Megissa-san, is there something you particular dislike?"

"I am not picky about food, but thank you for asking. Shirou-san, I believe we should continue or lesson at another time."

"Yeah, sorry about cutting it off halfway."

"It is no trouble. I shall return this to its place," she replied picking the laptop and leaving the room.

A moment of silence passed before Sakura spoke again.

"Senpai, why is Megissa-san staying here?"

"Hm? Oh she's in difficult spot right now and needed a place to stay. I've got plenty of space so I offered her to remain here for a while."

"I see," she confirmed. That was exactly like him, though it didn't explain when or how they met. "By the way, how is your cold?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I was already feeling a lot better this late morning. I even went out for a stroll this afternoon."

"… Is that when you met Megissa-san?"

"Uh… no. Actually I met her yesterday evening."

"Is that so? Does that mean she has spent the night here already?" And the entire day with him? What have they been up to, all by themselves.

"Y-yes," he stuttered in reply.

"I see, I see. And you just happened to forget telling us about it when we visited this morning?"

By then her voice had gone literally glacial. Shirou had to even taken a step away from her.

"Ah," he gulped. "Yes. It completely slipped my mind to be honest. You know, being sick and all."

"… Fine," she said finally letting him off the hook. She was being ridiculous. She had no claim over who he knew and invited into his home. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But still…

"Senpai? Please be careful. I know you want to help as many people as you can, but someone is going to take advantage of you at this rate."

"… You're right," he sighed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I promise I'll be careful ok?"

"That's all I ask. Sorry, I didn't mean to stick my nose into your business."

"It's okay. You were just worrying for me. I appreciate it, Sakura."

He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but blush lightly in return. He appreciated her. He really did and her heart soared at the small acknowledgment. Oh, if only she could freeze time and live that moment forever.

"Eh eh eh eh," a evil laughter came from the entrance making the both of teenager _eep_ in surprise. There was Fujimura-sensei, leaning against the door frame, making a bad effort of hiding her grin behind a hand. "You two are so cute together."

"Fuji-nee," Shirou cried.

"Fujimura-sensei," Sakura echoed in protest, blushing madly as she did so.

"Oh my," Megissa chuckled as she returned from wherever she had gone to. "It appears we have intruded on a private moment. Should we give them some privacy?"

"Eh eh. I didn't think my little Shirou-chan could be this good at wooing girls."

"Fuji-nee," Shirou begun with his eyebrow twitching. "If you keep teasing us like that you won't get anything to eat for dinner."

"Grk," Fujimura-sensei said as her mouth forcibly close, her eating instinct prevailing by a large margin over her desire to tease her ward. It was to be noted that even Megissa-san, thought not directly addressed hadn't muttered another word in that regard but dutifully took her place at the table. It appeared that she was already a slave to Shirou's unparalleled kitchen skills. "Shirou is mean," the teacher concluded dejectedly as she took her place at the table as well.

"Yes I am," Shirou nodded vigorously with his arms crossed over his chest. "If I wasn't, who'd keep you from stirring more trouble than you already do?"

Sakura heard her mutter something about arrogant cheeky brats but it was too low to be sure.

Five minutes later dinner was served and Sakura was brought up to speed about Megissa circumstances, which caused a reaction not too dissimilar from Taiga's earlier that day. When dinner was finally over Sakura helped Shirou in cleaning the plates, while Megissa and Fujimura-sensei watched TV.

When they finished they joined the other women in front of the screen. It was then that Sakura noticed something odd about her teacher.

"No more sightings of the mysterious vigilante dubbed Archer," the spokesman said. "Police investigations have failed to turn up any lead on the masked man who helped uncover a criminal ring with still unknown extensions. Police officers have stated that they are currently focused in gathering evidences related to the case, admitting that the whereabouts of Archer is not their priority as of now."

Sakura had heard about the vigilante, like probably most of Japan had by that point but she hadn't given it too much attention. It's not like her life was any different because of him and the fact that he seemed to be active mostly in Fuyuki was of little concern.

And yet… Fujimura-sense kept stealing glances at Shirou every now and then while the news continued talking about Archer's exploits.

Perhaps she was just reading too much into it? Yes, that was probably the case. Fujimura-sensei was probably worried that Shirou would try to emulate the masked boy. It was a understandable concern on her part, considering that Shirou was all too prone at getting into trouble for other people…

…. and that he was very good with bow and arrow…

… and he was extremely fit for his age…

… and he "rescued" a dubious woman and took her into his home…

… No. That was a ridiculous line of thought. There was no way that her beloved Senpai, her kind, unassuming Shirou was secretly a vigilante that stalked the night in search of criminal to stop and people to help. It was something she would never consider acceptable because it would have meant that the only person she believed being without a mask had actually deceived her to some degree.

Yes, she did her best to convince herself of it, though it didn't work nearly as good as she hoped it would, leaving her with an all too familiar feeling of coldness.

* * *

><p><strong>Emiya Household: late evening<strong>

Caster watched the two woman leave Shirou's house. They were, as far as she could tell, very light hearted and warm people, though both of them were more than they let on. Especially the Sakura girl. There was something about her that ticked Caster off. Something familiar. There had been very little interaction and so she couldn't develop a final impression on the shy girl.

The older woman instead was probably just as lively and outspoken as she looked, though Caster had the distinct impression that a good portion of her antics weren't necessarily spontaneous. In fact she seemed to have a keen eye behind that childish exterior of hers.

Caster didn't know if Taiga knew or just heavily suspected that her ward was Archer, but the glances she kept stealing at him all the evening were a pretty obvious hint that she was looking out for proof. She also didn't miss the few glances she had shoot in her direction, no doubt wondering if there was more to Caster's involvement with her ward that they had let on, probably in lieu of Shirou nighttime activities.

She refrained from saying anything to her host. Her role in his familiar issues was marginal at best, and if the moment for him to get at odds with his relatives and friends over his actions would ever come she didn't want to have a part in it. She knew a thing or two about unwanted people meddling with other's people families after all and she had no wish to relive a similar situation anytime soon, much less being the cause for it.

She was thinking about that when she heard the sound of footstep coming closer to the gates. She turned in the direction of the noise and saw the other person she was supposed to get to know that night.

Kuzuki Soichirou, Shirou's school teacher and expert assassin by the look of things. Even now that he was in her sight she could hardly tell he was there. That level of presence concealment was proof enough that as far as human skills went, that man was not to be trifled with.

She also assumed he was the person Shirou had mentioned knowing his status as a Magus, but she didn't know what her relationship between the two was. It seemed cordial, if a little cold. Definitely not something based on a mutual blackmailing. She was actually looking forward to finding out what exactly had brought two persons on opposite ends of the moral spectrum to coexist peacefully in the same city. Perhaps Shirou's view of the world wasn't as black and white as she had initially esteemed them to be.

"Good evening, Kuzuki-sensei," Shirou greeted when the man was close enough.

"Emiya-kun," the man nodded in reply before turning at her with inspective eyes.

"Ah right, Kuzuki -sensei, this is Megissa-san. Megissa, this is my teacher Kuzuki-sensei."

They exchanged polite greetings but Caster could tell that the man hadn't expressed the slightest emotion in her regard, neither positive or negative, in spite of having seen her perform hypnosis on another human being. He either lack any form of prejudice or morality. The latter wasn't that difficult to imagine considering his supposed profession. Alternatively he lacked something as a human being that left him uncaring of other people, and that too wasn't too difficult to image. Not for her.

They all walked inside, with Shirou exposing his back to Kuzuki without a problem. The young man wasn't a fool as much as she thought him to be upon their first meeting, so the assassin was definitely considered trustworthy. Having grown to acknowledge Shirou's judgment she decided to extend the same courtesy for the time being.

They sat at the table much like they did during dinner. Kuzuki didn't speak a word but he was demanding answers by just sitting there. For a person without a presence it was indeed a remarkable feat.

"So," Shirou began sitting at her side and in front of his teacher, "there are a few things we need discuss, Sensei."

The following hour was spent by Shirou explaining the concept of the Holy Grail War and Heroic Spirit in general. Caster was surprised by his openness over the argument but she was even more taken aback by Kuzuki reaction, or lack thereof.

"I see," he finally concluded. "It does sound like a troublesome situation."

Caster had to hold back a snort. Who in their right mind would consider a war between Magi and Heroic Spirits as just troublesome?

"Yes," Shirou agreed, not minding the man's lack of emotions. "In that regard I was hoping for your assistance. Ah, don't get me wrong. I don't want you to take part in the hostilities, but the temple is a strategically important location and other Magi and Servants are bound to visit it at one point or another. I would like you to keep an eye on strangers that might happen to come by. On a more personal note, I would like to step up my training. I need to be at my strongest for what's about to come."

"…" the man didn't immediately reply, reaming silent as he stared in Shirou's eyes. For almost an entire minute no one spoke until Kuzuki finally gave a brief nod. "I accept," he said standing up once more. "I shall be back tomorrow morning by five. Be ready by then."

"I will," Shirou bowed, "thank you, Sensei."

He was just about to leave when Caster finally decided to speak. "Just a moment please. There is something I would like to ask."

"What is it?" Kuzuki asked turning his cold eyes to her.

"Why are you willing to help without asking for any recompense?"

Kuzuki eyes flickered to Shirou and remained on him before returning to her. "Because he asked," was his short reply. Caster didn't know what to say to that, or even if she needed to say anything at all. She had her answer, even though it made no sense to her.

Taking the ensuing silence as his cue to leave, Kuzuki left the room with a courteous nod, followed shortly by Shirou who accompanied him to the exit, leaving Caster behind to mull over the recent development.

-oOo-

"A word of advice, Emiya-kun," Kuzuki said as they reached the gate.

"What is it, Sensei?"

"That woman is dangerous," he said without dancing around the subject. "For your sake, keep a close eye on her."

"I'm aware," Shirou replied, not really surprised. After all she…

"Very well," the teacher replied, not questioning his student's judgment. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Goodnight Sensei," Shirou replied, closing the gate behind him.

Alone with his thoughts Shirou sighed. It had only been one day since he found out about the war and there were already far too many things to think about. The business with Issei had left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew it was for the better, and that his choice had no simply spared himself a great deal of troubles but most likely kept his friend out of harm's way as much as possible. Involving Kuzuki had been a far simpler choice, but no matter how he looked at it he had brought his teacher into the fray of a deathly battle.

Finally there was Caster. He managed to establish an amicable and respectful relationship with the Servant, but there were probably many difficult issues to face before the war even started. He would cross those bridges when they'd get there, he reasoned, but the prospect of the difficulties ahead didn't help ease his already trouble mind.

"Shirou-san," Caster called from the doorway. Not seeing him return she must went to check on him. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," he smiled. "Yes it is. Sorry I was just lost in thoughts for a moment."

"That's all right. I suppose the past two days have been quite eventful, even for a Mage."

"That's putting it mildly but it's okay. I'm going to figure out how to deal with this once and for all."

Caster acknowledged his statement with a respectful nod of her head and then returned inside the house.

Later, after providing her with all sort of clothes and other things for her daily life Shirou retreated to the dojo, taking Monohoshizao along with him.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, Shirou allowed his mind to slip in the trance-like state that preceded the activation of his Circuit but he remained like that, focusing on the sword resting in his lap.

He closed his eyes and immediately the image of the gleaming blade formed in his mind with such clearness that it was like he was staring at it. No, that wasn't true. The image was far clearer than his eyes could ever communicate to his brain. There was nothing he couldn't see of the wonderful sword, for its forging processes, to its flaws. Absolutely every detail that encompassed the existence known as Monohoshizao was recorded within him without error.

Temporarily putting aside any concern relatively to as of how exactly he was accomplishing such a feat, Shirou delved deeper within the mass of information that Monohoshizao was to his brain and in a moment he found what he was looking for.

Tsubame Gaeshi.

A technique that broke through the fabric of space itself and cut the target from three different directions at the same time. It wasn't a mystery, or an act of Thaumaturgy. It was pure skill alone.

Shirou was impressed beyond words. That a technique like that could exist without relying on the manipulation of the World's inner workings was a feat that defied description or praise. Furthermore it was something that Emiya Shirou shouldn't have known anything about, much less replicated to any extent.

Yet he did so. In a moment of desperation he had reached for the technique engraved in the sword and replicated it. How he didn't know but the other issue was the difference in the execution.

As far as he could tell he had performed the technique flawlessly. He replayed it in his mind and he could find no difference from his execution compared to the one performed by its creator. Except that Shirou was no Sasaki.

And that was exactly the crux of the matter. That was the single fact that screwed up the technique. Emiya Shirou was not Sasaki Kojirou. Their height was different, their body structure was different, their musculature, strength and speed was different. Tsubame Gaeshi was created by Sasaki Kojirou for Sasaki Kojirou and no amount of effort on Shirou's part would change that. Considering the absolute precision required to pull it off, it was already a miracle that Shirou had managed to perform two illusory strikes and a real one.

To be honest, the entire situation had been miraculous. If it wasn't because he had stumbled both on this skill and this sword Shirou would have died at the hand of Vincent Guilford.

That wasn't acceptable. He couldn't afford to go in blind anymore. He had to find out where this ability of his came from, what it entailed and use it to become stronger. Much, much stronger.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>Author notes: Not really much to say about this one. It took a long time to get this chapter done considering the final length but I really had to start over from scratch a couple of times. Caster isn't the most explored character in Canon, so writing her in depth while staying true to what is known about her is quite the challenge.<p>

If you want to discuss something about this chapter or the story in general go to my forum (see profile).

Anyway, thanks for reading and for reviewing.


	17. Spring Moon

**Chapter 16 – Spring Moon**  
>(Published: 12.15.12 - Beta: RavingScholar, Cloud Link Zero, Zaralann)<p>

* * *

><p>It had been a week since Medea first arrival at the Emiya's estate, and they had been relatively calm days. Not being subjected to the whims of a self-centered Magus helped immeasurably in the mood department. She had most of the day to herself considering that Shirou was away at school, and some evenings he worked somewhere in town.<p>

The young man didn't cease to surprise her in some way every day. He was hard working and painfully honest, and though he was quite strong for a human being, his confident personality had not a single trace of arrogance. He provided all the small things she required to live as a human without waiting for her to ask, and in addition he allowed her into his Workshop without restriction.

Granted, by what she figured about his Magecraft he really didn't have any Mystery worth protecting, and it wasn't like he could keep her out if she wanted to enter. Nonetheless, his openness was a refreshing change.

She saw him perform his Magecraft in the building called a dojo a few times. There was nothing remarkable about it, but the degree of control he had over his moderate reserves was definitely far above the average even by her standards. It made sense since he seemed to lack any particular talent in the field, but frankly it was surprising he even stuck with practicing Thaumaturgy considering his progress so far. Certainly there were advantages to his use of Reinforcement, she wouldn't deny that…but the sheer amount of time and effort he invested to develop that skill to such a level was not equal to the benefits he reaped. Of course, it was once more a testament to his character that he was willing to follow a path without an obvious gain. With regards to determination and dedication to his goals, it could be said that he far surpassed most practitioners of the craft.

This side of his character shined even in the most difficult moments of his life. Such as the one Medea was witnessing that early morning and every morning before that.

Like he had promised, the former assassin Kuzuki Soichirou came every morning and trained Shirou in his fighting style…if you could call a unilateral beating as training, that is. For seven days Emiya Shirou was on the receiving end of a vicious beat down at the hands of his so-called teacher. Truth to be told Medea was amazed by both men. Kuzuki's style and skills were something that even she, a Heroic Spirit, had a hard time grasping. Certainly she wasn't the most prominent front line fighter, far from it in fact, but in her life she had seen other Throne worthy heroes clash against each other and none of them moved like he did.

There was no dodging his blows. It just wasn't possible. Every time Shirou parried he found himself caught in a hold. Every time he dodged he was struck from a different angle.

An entire week progressed like that, with Shirou being unable to match his teacher's skill and it wasn't for a lack of improvement either. She could tell that every day, beating after beating, he got a little better, faster, more precise. His reflexes had improved a great deal, but the difference in skill was still overwhelming.

Still, he persisted in spite of the obvious pain Kuzuki caused him with every strike. His dedication only reinforced Medea's conviction that Shirou couldn't be considered a boy by any stretch of the imagination. His resolve warranted her respect, if anything.

* * *

><p>Through pain and sore muscles, Shirou had to recognize once more that Kuzuki did in fact take his teaching duties quite seriously. The teenage Magus had requested to step up his training and his Sensei complied.<p>

"Ghh," he protested as Kuzuki stared down on his fallen form.

"Not good enough, Emiya-kun," the teacher replied as if he understood the meaning behind Shirou's moaning. "You must not react to an attack. You must anticipate it."

"Ghk," he agreed with a short nod. That was much easier said than done, though. The theory of anticipating an opponent's attack by reading its body language was a sound one, but not so easy to put into practice. A lot of experience was required to pull it off and Kuzuki appeared intent on beating it into him. Quite literally, in fact.

"That's enough for today. We'll continue tomorrow. You should get ready for school now."

"Yeah," Shirou replied, having finally restored his ability to form words. Seriously, if it weren't for his accelerated healing rate, there was no way he could speak, much less think about attending classes for a couple of days. Instead, he would probably be fine in a couple of hours and more than ready to take another bea—er, resume his training the next day.

Kuzuki silently showed himself out, as usual. When he left Caster approached Shirou, looking down at him with an expression caught between puzzlement and amusement.

"Shirou-san. Are you alright?"

"Sorta," he replied, doing his best not to use a single muscle more than needed to form words. "I'll be better soon."

"If you say so," she smiled, "though I wonder if perhaps you have a masochist streak in you."

"… Sensei's technique," he grunted, "is not something I can hope to master without sacrifices. A little physical pain is nothing compared to what I gain." He pulled up to a sitting position and winced. Boy, was there any part of his body that didn't hurt?

"I can understand that," Caster replied, offering her hand to help him get up. Shirou took it and stood, noticing only after he released her that it had been the first instance of physical contact they shared after he had… changed her clothes while she was unconscious. Recalling that embarrassing moment, Shirou was actually glad that his face already had a bluish tinge otherwise she might have caught onto his line of thinking.

She never called him out on that, probably figuring by herself that he meant no disrespect and that the situation demanded it. She did, however, keep a small distance from him, even when he taught her how to use his computer and other modern common tools she had no familiarity with.

It was to be expected, he supposed. Anyone would be uncomfortable with being undressed and touched by a stranger while unconscious, no matter the circumstances. It was a relief that she had finally come to trust him enough as not to be repulsed by a simple contact with him. It was a far cry from a declaration of friendship, but if there was one thing Shirou had learned in sixteen years it was that small steps and lots of patience usually went for the distance.

"Is there something on my face?" she asked noticing his stare.

"Ah, no. Sorry I was just lost in thoughts," he said with a shaky chuckle." Well, I should get cleaned up now."

"Yes, you really should," she agreed restoring a measure of distance. Well, no one ever came out from any form of physical training smelling like roses, did they?

* * *

><p>School life had returned to its normal routine. The aftermath of Archer's latest known exploit was winding down even though it remained a topic of major interest. Most of the news networks had left the city, leaving only a small contingent of stubborn reporters.<p>

Even then, Shirou was still worried about the presence of the mass media in town. The Holy Grail War was probably the single most dangerous threat initiated by Magi worldwide to the rule of secrecy. Certainly, the supervisor would make sure that no curious eyes remained pointed on the city when the conflict was in full swing, but perhaps it was better to have Archer sighted in some other place; possibly on the other side of the country.

Another matter of worry for the red haired vigilante was the other Magus: Tohsaka Rin. Since the whole Guilford debacle, his schoolmate had been extremely aloof. After Yukiko's initial rescue they were on cordial terms and often ate lunch together, much to Issei's dismay. Now, she no longer sought him out, and when he initiated a conversation she always treated him with a measure of carefulness.

He thought that perhaps she suspected him to be involved with the events of that night, but soon discarded that notion. Tohsaka was devious but her methods were actually quite straightforward. She would have either confronted him about her suspicions or tried to wiggle out the truth by making him slip during a conversation. Seeing how she almost avoided him, his theory is that she was trying to keep him out of the coming conflict by dissociating from him as much as possible. It was a temporary solution at best for the both of them.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to reveal his nature as a Magus to her. He really did enjoy her friendship, even now that she was on the wary side. He really had no desire to see the typical wall of mistrust so peculiar to Magi form between them.

So he kept silent, waiting for her to summon her Servant. At that point, she was more likely to listen to what he had to say without considering whether he was just trying to steal her mysteries or not. At least, that was what he was desperately trying to convince himself.

* * *

><p>It took Waver the better part of a week to get to Japan and track down Guilford's whereabouts. As a sealing designate, the man had done a very good job hiding, at least in ways that would befuddle Magi. Most enforcers from the Association would have had a hard time, but Waver had a better knowledge of the country and of the mundane society at large. He was also feeling rather smug about it, though the feeling lasted only until he reached Guilford's place.<p>

What was left of it anyway: a pile of burnt down ruins.

What should have been a luxurious villa in the woods outside of town was just a charred patch of ground. Very little remained of the building, just a few pieces of rubble that somehow survived what had to be an intense fire. A fire that apparently didn't so much as touch the leaves of the surrounding trees.

It didn't take a genius to figure out it had been the doing of a Magus, but if it had been Guildford himself in an attempt to literally burn his tracks or the handiwork of someone else Waver couldn't tell.

Either way he was back at square one, assuming that Vincent Guilford himself wasn't part of the blackened ruins of his mansion

"Sir," a voice called from the woods behind him in heavily accented English. "We found something."

Waver followed after the voice, quickly catching up with two dark haired figures, a man and a woman, dressed in business suits and each carrying a sturdy metal suitcase.

Cheung Jūn and Cheung Jìn were a couple of mercenary Magi from China. Jun the husband and Jìn the wife were renowned as one of the best teams of Magi for hire on the entire Asiatic continent.

It was awfully ironic that the Second Lord El-Melloi was kept safe by a group of mercenaries when his predecessor had met his end at the hands of one of them. Then again, the elders couldn't send actual enforcers to aid and protect him while he was secretly searching for a Sealing Designate for reasons that did not involve turning him into the Association. The Cheung duo was honor bound to secrecy, and their unaffiliated status with the Clock Tower meant that if things went south and they lost their lives in the line of duty, there was little chance that anyone would notice it.

To sum it up, they were both extremely skilled and extremely expendable. Exactly what the elders had been looking for.

"What is it?" Waver asked as he approached.

"There seems to be a passage here," the short, apparently unthreatening woman said pointing to what looked like a dried up well. "It leads all the way to the basement of the mansion."

"Is it safe?"

"It's stable enough to grant passage. I'll go ahead and check the rest," the man replied, jumping down the hole without using the ladder, his wife following after in the same fashion. Not to be outclassed, Waver did the same, landing smoothly at the bottom of the hole.

Watching him land without effort, the Chinese woman, who much like her husband had eyes so narrow that looked almost vulpine, gave him an appreciative look.

Not many Magi, and especially not a Lord from the Association accompanied their hired hands during their missions, and if they did they kept a respectable distance from the front line. In addition, Waver just showed that he possessed sufficient physical prowess and a degree of physical enhancement that most Magi didn't bother developing, unless they planned to go into battle. Waver knew all this, and his choice was deliberate. Jun and Jin might have been just hired help, but gaining someone's respect never hurt in the long run.

Neither mercenary discussed their employer's choice, figuring that he probably had the skill set to protect himself if needed be.

Silently they proceeded forward. The pass was mostly clear, at least until they reached the end of the narrow corridor, where they found what remained of the mansion's basement. Much like the surface portion, the place was mostly collapsed except for a few sections that survived the fury of the fire. No doubt it was thanks to the structural reinforcement and elaborate warding that all Magi applied to their Workshops. A necessary measure seeing that at times their experiment tended to be a little… volatile, and it would do no good to survive the direct backlash of a spell gone wrong only to die in the subsequent collapse.

Still, the fact that a part of the building survived at all was the first hint that it hadn't been work of Guilford himself. Barring a sudden escape, if the man had wanted to destroy all traces, he would have first removed the protections and then burned the place down.

Making their way through the rubble, they reached what was the core of the Workshop. What they found in there gave credit to Waver's initial analysis. The beheaded corpse of Vincent Guilford lay on his own operation table, his eyes, frozen open in death staring blindly at the intruders. His partially burned body still showed the signs of a surgical operation he had undergone, probably posthumously.

"Talk about Karma," Waver muttered.

"Sir?"

"It looks like Mr. Guilford has met his end just like his predecessor: killed and robbed of his Crest," he explained.

"I see," the woman nodded. "Do you intend to track the killer?"

"Of course. You have more experience than I do with bladed weapons. See what you can figure out about the killer from Vincent's corpse. I'll see what I can gather from what's left of his Workshop…if there's anything to find at all. This place was ransacked badly."

"Yes, Sir," the duo agreed as they proceeded to examine the corpse of the deceased Magus with the expert eye of those who had seen too many deaths to count.

An hour of work produced very little indication about the identity of the killer, though they were able to determine their height and the type of blade used: a Japanese katana of over 1.5 meters in length: definitely not a common weapon even in the very land where it had originated.

When they left they made sure that this time nothing of Guilford was left behind for anyone to find. It was unlikely that anyone would come looking to dig around, but there was no reason to leave compromising objects around that could turn the eyes of the Clock Tower in that direction. It was better to simply close all loose ends.

Driving the rented car they had left parked outside the woods, they returned to their hotel in a sour mood, at least in Waver's case. The entire operation up to that point had been a waste of time.

Forget being back to square one, Waver mused, the current situation was equal to being completely off of the board. His reason for being in Japan was to ensure that Guilford would uphold his part of the contract, and failing that, to make sure he wouldn't expose his dealing with the El-Melloi. This included shutting him up permanently if needed be.

But now Guilford was dead, and he hadn't the slightest clue who had done the deed. Waver couldn't bring himself to mourn the deceased Magus. His death was fitting for a monster like him, who had killed his master and stole his Crest.

The problem was that Waver couldn't be sure if the Sealing Designate had left any clue about his dealings that his killer could have found. He certainly couldn't afford to cross his finger and ignore the situation, hoping that it wouldn't come and bite him in the ass later on.

Sighing heavily, he hanged in coat and went for the fridge, turning on the television but cutting the sound. He needed a drink, possibly alcoholic, and some distraction before burning in brain on useless thoughts. How was he supposed to track this person or persons without the slightest clue about his identity? It wasn't like he ran around with a katana strapped to his back, was it? And even if he did, where was Waver supposed to look for him? On television?

On cue, his eyes shifted to the muted appliance that was broadcasting a special on the teen vigilante that had recently become popular in Japan. Waver's eye widened and the shock forced him to gasp, sending his drink down the wrong pipe.

"Pffftt!" he shamelessly spat his drink in Jun's face.

"What the hell," the Chinese man snapped in a show of anger unusual for the collected Magus-for-hire.

Coughing out the remnants of the fluid, Waver frantically pointed at the television where the newscaster was once more showing the images of the local vigilante's last known exploit.

The figure of the teenager with an unconscious girl cradled in his arms stood proudly his back turned to a burning warehouse. Securely strapped on his back was a katana whose length was certainly not common and definitely the kind of weapon they had been looking for.

"Oh," Jin said at her husband's side, following their choking employer's finger.

"Oh?" Waver coughed, "Oh? We have a rogue Magus being exposed as a vigilante on TV and _'Oh' _is the best you can say?"

"Frankly sir, I don't see how fussing over it would change anything," the woman answered coolly. "As a matter of fact, we now have a new trail to follow. I daresay this Magus' foolishness has become our advantage in this instance."

"Hrmm," Waver conceded begrudgingly, regaining his composure. This new development was extremely unsettling. The whole point of Waver's presence in Japan, in spite of what the elders expected of him, was to keep the eyes of the Association away from their dealings with a Sealing Designate.

If another Magus was publicly stirring up trouble, the Clock Tower could be forced to send its enforcer, with a considerable risk of Waver being caught in the ensuing shit-storm. He had to deal with this stupid kid and he had to do it fast, before the entire situation could truly go FUBAR.

"Plan a patrol route," he ordered to his hired assistants and bodyguards. "We are going to scour this city every single night until we find this guy. In the meantime, I'm going to see if the local authorities know more about this Archer than the media does."

"Understood," they confirmed at once. They immediately went to attend this new task while Waver turned around and left for the police station. A few inquiries would hopefully give him a better way to track this idiot than spending to night trying to spot him over the city.

* * *

><p>Karma, Shirou mused, was a bitch.<p>

He should have known that he couldn't escape the punishment for his sins. He was ready to take responsibility for what he had done, of course, but he certainly didn't expect retribution to come knocking at his door in such a manner.

He had just come of the bath. After putting on a pair of boxers and his usual set of jeans (of which he had several pairs), he started drying his still damp hair with a towel. Examining his reflection in the mirror, Shirou noticed that most of his bruises were already gone. A few bluish spots remained but nothing that his shirt couldn't hide. Thankfully he didn't have PE at school that day, so there wasn't even the issue of somebody noticing. Of course, Shirou couldn't take into account the following events.

He was just about finished when the unexpected struck.

"KYAAAAA," a pair of feminine voices cried not too far away, accompanied by a ruckus of metal hitting wood several times.

Overriding his common sense, Shirou's _'Saving People'_ primary instinct kicked in and he dashed out of the bathroom in a leap. Following the noises he ran to the kitchen, slamming the door open.

* * *

><p><strong>A few minutes earlier<strong>

Medea ushered Shirou to the bathroom for a much needed clean up. It wasn't like he really smelled bad, but she wanted him out of the way for a few minutes so that she could do as she pleased in his Sancta Santorum. No, not his Workshop: his kitchen.

In the few past days, Medea had gotten the chance to get to know her host a little better. Heroic behavior aside, he appeared to be a genuinely kind person who allowed pretty much everyone to do as they pleased around him without restriction. There was but one thing he seemed to treasure beyond words and that was his cooking skills and the tools he needed to perform. Not even his surrogate sister was allowed behind the kitchen counter. Only Sakura had unrestricted access, and that was only after Shirou had strictly taught her in the way of handling foods.

Frankly, if she hadn't experienced firsthand the wonders of his culinary ability, Medea would have ridiculed him for having such an unmanly interest. Of course, she didn't even consider doing such a thing since one of the major perks of this unspoken alliance was being able to savor his delicacies three times a day.

Still, she was a Magus and she understood the concept of equivalent exchange better than anyone else. No matter what Shirou said about it, she was in his debt and at the current time there was very little she could do to even things out. So, she decided, she would take care of breakfast for once.

She realized only when she started checking the kitchen cabinets in search of ingredients that she didn't know a single thing about this country's recipes and that there wasn't a single ingredient to make a dish from her own country. Still, she couldn't quite give up. She was a prideful woman, perhaps too prideful for her own good, and she wasn't about to give up only because of a minor obstacle.

"Ah, Megissa-san?" the voice of Sakura called from the door.

"Ah, Sakura-san. Good morning."

"Good morning. Ano… what are you doing in the kitchen, Megissa-san."

"I was trying to prepare something for breakfast," she explained. "Shirou-san is in the bathroom and I wanted to take care of kitchen duties for a chance."

"There's no need for you to do that," Sakura replied moving into the small space of the kitchen, her voice sounding firmer than it ever had before. "I will take care of cooking."

"No, no. I insist. There is just so much freeloading a person can do," Medea said with a smile meant to be disarming.

"You shouldn't worry," she replied again more firmly. "I'll take care of cooking."

Medea realized that the usually shy and soft-spoken girl was being particularly forceful and straightforward. She usually got her point across by discussing her motives but she had never once stood her ground so firmly. Holding back a smirk, Medea realized that Sakura wasn't so much trying to be a graceful host as she was defending her territory: the small portion of the world that belonged only to her and the much oblivious object of her affections. It was cute, really.

Then again, it wasn't like Medea really cared about what other people wanted when it was in direct opposition to her desires.

"You're too kind, Sakura-san," she replied, dismissing her words. "However, this is truly no bother."

She reached for a pot on the upper shelf of the kitchen, only to be intercepted by the purple haired girl.

"I insist that you let me do this," Sakura demanded while pulling the pot.

"And I insist on doing this myself," Medea said politely but with an annoyed frown, pulling the pot back to her.

In a manner that would have looked ridiculous to any spectator, the two women began vying for the hapless pot by pulling it back and forth. Soon enough, their exchange escalated wildly until they both ended up bumping against the still open cabinet. The things inside trembled, wobbled and ultimately toppled over the duo.

"KYAAAAA," they both shrieked, falling to the ground under the unexpected onslaught of the vengeful kitchen appliances. "Ow, ow, ow," they both cried nursing their heads.

When the last pan finally stopped clattering, the sound of rushing footsteps could be heard from the nearby corridor. The door to the living room burst open and Shirou ran inside with a worried expression on his face.

'_Oh my,_' Medea thought, staring at him. In his evident rush he had forgotten to put in a shirt and his unbuttoned jeans were riding low on his exposed torso, showing his defined abdomen and chest still partially wet from the bath. Medea was admittedly far from inexperienced on the subject of a man's body, but she had to admit to herself that Emiya Shirou was a fine specimen of his species. Of course, there was no outward indication of that line of though on her face.

Sakura, on the other hand was having a significantly harder time of hiding her appreciation for the half naked man. In fact, the amount of red on her face was giving the room an entirely different light, and her gaping mouth was not unlike that of a frozen fish. She had even stopped rubbing her head from the shock of seeing the boy she had a crush on walk toward her with more skin exposed than usual.

"What happened? Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

"Ah. Uh," Sakura replied intelligently. It looked like she was having some difficulty engaging the part of her brain that controlled speech.

"Sakura, Megissa-san, are you hurt?" he asked, getting closer and dropping to one knee to help his friend.

"Buh!" Sakura spluttered, getting an eyeful of Shirou's muscles from up close as he pulled her up to her feet.

"We are both fine, Shirou-san," Medea replied with a smile, unable to refrain from smiling at the younger girl's antics. "Just a minor kitchen accident."

"Minor accident? Megissa-san, Sakura isn't speaking. Did she hit her head? Look she isn't responding to anything I do," he pointed out as he waved his hand in front of her eyes and snapped his fingers to catch her attention with little results. She just kept staring at his chest like her gaze had been glued to it.

"Ah. I don't think that's caused by any injury she might have received, but rather by your, hm, choice in attire," Medea said, shooting a pointed glance at his exposed chest.

"My choice in…," he looked down at himself and his eyes widened in realization. By then his jeans were threatening to fall off completely, exposing what remained to be seen in the process. "Buh!" he sputtered just as Sakura previously had, going as far as to imitate the same shade of red the purple haired girl was sporting on her face.

Faster than Medea thought possible for a human without the employment of Magecraft, Shirou let go of the barely standing girl and pulled up his pants, bolting out of the door in a blur. "I'm sorry!" he shouted without turning around and disappeared, presumably back in the bathroom.

Medea chuckled and shook her head in honest amusement. Truly this was a good place to spend he days. A private room, good food and even comedic relief: there wasn't much more one could ask for from lodging, was there?

* * *

><p>Sakura's face burned so deeply she thought might have gotten a fever. When Shirou finally disappeared from the kitchen, to her relief and simultaneous disappointment, her embarrassment was sustained by the shamefulness of her reaction. Like a perverted old man, she just ogled him the entire time, going as far as to completely tune out his words.<p>

She didn't do it on purpose. She just couldn't help but stare at those strong biceps, those wide pectorals, those abs that seemed carved into wood, as well as the hint of his lower backside she managed to glimpse as he made his retreat.

In response to her body warming up _improperly_, the things in her body squirmed and trashed against the confines of her mind. Her body was heating up with the accursed impulse that had been engraved into her. She tried her best to beat it down, like she did so many times around her Senpai, but in this occasion she was having a harder time than usual, if that were even possible.

When it was Shinji her mind found it horrible, even abhorrent, but this time it was more complex. Try as she might, she couldn't associate the image now burned into her mind with something undesired. She did very much desire what she had seen, and the thing took advantage of her weaker mental state to push its craving to the front of her mind.

Already a familiar and unwelcome dampness was making itself known, making her squirm unpleasantly. Breathing normally was getting harder by the minute, and she had to make a conscious effort to hold her hands in place.

No good. It was absolutely no good. At this rate she wouldn't be able to hold back. She had to get away and take care of this…_impulse_ before it could get strong enough to override her control.

"Sakura-san, are you feeling unwell?" Megissa asked. "I was joking before, but perhaps you were hurt more than I thought."

"Ah, no. I'm feeling just a bit lightheaded right now," Sakura replied with a shaky smile.

"Are you sure?" the older woman asked reaching out to touch her forehead. "Maybe you should lay down a moment and rest."

"No, no," she dismissed. "I'm fine, really. I'll be alright in just a moment."

"If you say so," Megissa shrugged. "By the way, in the end it looks like we aren't going to cook breakfast at all. Perhaps we should put things back as they were before we cause any more damage."

"Yes," she cringed. "That would be best."

"I'll help," Shirou said as he came back, now wearing his trademark blue sleeved shirt. He made a point not look at her. God, he was probably thinking she was a pervert or something. Of course he didn't want to look at her.

Still, the close proximity as they went to restore order in the kitchen wafted the smell of shampoo that came from his hair, making her heart throb. She wanted to reach out and touch him, pulling him to her and crushing her lips on his and…

"Sakura? You're awfully pale. Are you feeling sick?" he reached out and touched her forehead with his hand. Not whimpering was the best she could do. Her breath sped up, as did her heart. Her body burned from within, demanding her to take action and to satisfy the need.

No! She had to get away. Now!

"I… I'm sorry Senpai," she smiled without giving away the real emotion behind her unrest. "I'm not feeling really good right now."

"Do you need to lay down? You can use one of the futons."

"No… I just need to wash my face and rest a little," she moved, headed to the bathroom but her body failed her and she toppled forward. Fortunately and unfortunately at the same time, Shirou stretched his arm and caught her before she could hit the floor. The warmth spreading from the point of contact diffused into her like a heavily addicting drug.

"Sakura, let me help you," Shirou said with a voice heavy with concern.

"N-no," she stuttered. "I can stand by myself."

"Nonsense," he dismissed. "You're about to pass out."

"Bathroom… please," she finally conceded, knowing that she couldn't turn him away when he thought she needed help.

"Just a moment," he moved her arm around his shoulder while his hand snuck around her waist, pulling her close. Could he hear it, she wondered, the frantic beating of her heart? Could he guess just by that her secret desire, enhanced by the Matou Worm Crest but not fake in the slightest?

A small part of her hoped that he could. A not so small part of her hoped that he would take advantage of it. Right there and then, she wanted him to ravish her. She was far too gone to care about Megissa seeing him taking her on the kitchen counter. She wanted her to know that he was hers. What better way than to have her watch while he took her in any conceivable manner and then…

"Sakura," he called, snapping her out of her lust induced haze. They were already in front of the bathroom and she hadn't even noticed they had walked all the way there.

"Thank you Senpai," she said slipping out of his hold and missing the contact immediately. "I'll be fine by myself now."

"You sure? I could, uh… ask Megissa-san to help you in there or something."

"No. There's really no need," she said slipping past the door.

"Okay. If you need anything just call okay."

" Yes, thank you Senpai." Oh, if only he knew what she truly wanted he would be utterly repulsed by her. If he knew how twisted and depraved they made her to be he wouldn't want to be anywhere near her. But he didn't know he so she closed the door behind her, shutting him out.

With trembling hands she turned the key twice, making sure it was properly locked. She couldn't live with herself if he decided to check up on her and saw her doing what she was about to do. Caught between shame and desire she set herself to take care of her burning desire as best as the situation allowed her.

* * *

><p>While Shirou escorted Sakura to the bathroom, Medea continued to clean the kitchen from the mess she had contributed to create. Her thoughts, however were focused on the purple haired girl. Aside from her obvious possessiveness of the redhead boy, there was something about her that Medea couldn't quite pinpoint.<p>

Sakura was normally jovial but there was something… dark about her that unsettled the Servant. She didn't think Shirou knew of this, otherwise he would probably have confronted her about whatever it was that bothered her until he found a solution.

It didn't seem that she had any ill intentions about her host; in fact, it seemed like she wanted to keep him out of her problems entirely. Medea could certainly live with, that but she would make a point to keep an eye on the girl, just in case.

That being said, the other major problem of "getting breakfast ready" still needed to be solved.

"I'll take care of it," Shirou said as he returned to the kitchen once more. For a moment Medea wondered if he had read her mind.

"Of course," she said, stepping aside. "I'm sorry for this."

"It's okay," he chuckled. "There's no damage done. So, what did you want to cook?"

"Actually, I don't really know," she replied, feeling a little sheepish. "I didn't think about it until I started and then I just figured out that there's no recipe I know of that I can cook with the ingredients here."

"Hmm," he nodded. "Do you want me to teach you some of the local recipes? I'm warning you though, you're sworn to secrecy about everything you learn in here."

Much to her own surprise she laughed a short but heartfelt laugh. "My, you seem to treasure your recipes more than your other… crafts," she concluded vaguely to avoid risks of being overheard.

"Yes, well. To be completely honest, of all the things I can do, this is my favorite."

"How so? I mean, your other hobbies are quite remarkable, if a little foolish. Don't you enjoy doing what you do?"

"I honestly do, but with the things I cook I can make people smile without anyone being hurt over it."

"You… really do care about others, don't you?" It wasn't so much a question as an observation.

"I try. Many awful things in this world wouldn't happen if more people just tried to help each other."

"I suppose so," she replied evenly. Of course she thought he was correct. A great deal of ugly things in life could be avoided if people weren't just so focused on themselves and their own selfish wishes. However, she knew quite well just how unlikely such a thing was from happening. People were driven by their own desires and would stop at nothing to achieve them, even trampling over somebody else's happiness.

For that reason, his words and his behavior annoyed her a bit. There had been no one willing to help her throughout her whole life. No, in fact people were more than willing to push their sin and ugliness onto her, making her a scapegoat for all of their faults.

She was nauseated by this, just as much as she was nauseated by him. Couldn't he see that people weren't worthy of being saved? Couldn't he see that those he helped would turn against him at their earliest convenience, forgetting that he had sacrificed of himself for them in the first place?

Even taking her into his home was a foolish choice. As soon as it was useful she would sacrifice him without a second thought, either controlling or manipulating him into doing her bidding. Well, perhaps if she were feeling generous, she could allow him to acknowledge his mistake when the time came.

In the meantime, she would squeeze him for all he was worth.

* * *

><p>When Sakura returned from the bathroom she was looking a lot better, if still a little pale. She adamantly refused to skip school for the day, regardless of Shirou insistence over the matter. Finally, she cornered him by asking if he would have stayed home if he were in her place. Shirou was many things, but a liar he was not, so he conceded that he too would have gone to school even if he felt a little under the weather.<p>

However, Sakura's health problems appeared to be the least of her concerns. As they left the house they run into her brother, Shinji. The elder Matou seemed to be in a pretty awful mood, which only worsened when he saw them together.

"Oi, Sakura," he shouted at her."

"Nii-san, good morning," Sakura said, voice dimming slightly.

"Don't _'good morning'_ you idiot girl," he said, storming toward her. "You were supposed to meet me half an hour ago."

"Ah, I'm sorry I completely forgot."

"Tch. If you're so airheaded that you can forget about your own brother, then perhaps you should focus more on your family instead of on… outsiders."

"Nii-san, Emiya-senpai is…"

"Quiet," he hissed, "and you, Emiya. Stop taking advantage of my sister all the time. Tell her to stop coming over at your place every single day," he said angrily.

"Nii-san, please. I don't…," she was stopped when Shirou moved an arm between her and her looming brother.

"Shinji, I'm not really sure what's the issue here," Shirou said, giving Shinji a firm look. "Sakura felt sick this morning so we are a little late, but it's hardly her fault. As for your request, I'm afraid I can't really do anything about it. My house is open to my friends every time they want to come by. That goes for you as well, of course."

"Tch. Whatever," Shinji said with no small amount of disgust. "Sakura, see that it doesn't happen again. Emiya, you damn snail, start moving or we'll be late for classes."

"Right," Shirou agreed, "I'll see you later, Sakura. Don't overexert yourself if you're still feeling sick okay?"

"Bye, Senpai. Take care of Nii-san for me, please."

"Don't worry. I'll make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble," he shouted as he ran after his wayward friend.

Sakura waved him off with a smile that suddenly dropped when he was out of sight. Without another word, she turned and resumed walking toward her school.

* * *

><p><strong>Two days later<strong>

Waver wasn't particularly happy with himself. The search for Archer hadn't born fruit in the least. That wasn't surprising when he considered that a Magus like Archer would probably be considered worthy of a Sealing Designation for jeopardizing the secret of Magecraft.

Then again, after investigating the rumor, he had to recognize that the vigilante had done a good job at hiding his real ability, to the point that Waver was beginning to doubt his initial estimation. Perhaps the boy wasn't a Magus, and was just associated with one. The tales of his exploits, those that he managed to gather from police officers with the application a subtle compulsion, spoke of an individual highly trained with a bow, hence the name Archer. Yet, they spoke also of an individual trained in barehanded fighting.

He was no doubt an extraordinary person in the eyes of the Mundanes, but under the scrutiny of a Magus he was just a competent fighter with a lot of preparation. In fact, if it weren't for his presumed involvement with Guilford, Waver would have had a hard time pegging him as a fellow practitioner of Thaumaturgy.

So perhaps the kid wasn't a complete fool, and he covered his bases well. There was still a possibility that he wasn't actually a Magus and that he either had been used to do someone else's dirty work, or that he was completely extraneous to the whole situation. That last didn't seem likely, but it was a possibility.

Guilford's death had certainly been the work of a Magus, seeing how his Crest had been removed with surgical precision. While this was Japan, there were very few katanas the size of the one that killed the Sealing Designate.

No, Archer's involvement was almost certain, and in any case it was the only lead he had to work with.

Still, Waver's thoughts were far from his current mission objective. Being back in Fuyuki, the place where he had met his King, Waver couldn't help but reminisce. The city was slightly different from what he recalled but that was true mostly for its central area, where businesses boomed and deflated every day. The residential areas were far less subjected to drastic changes in layout, and so it was very easy for Waver's feet to find the way back to that place.

The quiet neighborhood was just like he recalled. The barking of a dog somewhere was the loudest noise in earshot, and the setting sun was casting its warm crimson light over the landscape. Though he could have called a taxi, Waver preferred to walk toward his destination, and he did so until he stood in front of the familiar building that was the McKenzie house.

The cozy little house, where he had spent his days during the fourth Holy Grail War pretending to be the grandson of the elderly couple that lived there, hadn't changed one bit. It was so absolutely unchanged that it seemed like time had frozen around the place. He half expected to hear Iskandar's boisterous laughter coming from inside, drinking beer with the old man like they were old pals.

Truly, for being a King from Legends, Iskandar never did look down on anyone, be them friends, foes or just simple bystanders. He acknowledged everyone, even when facing them in battle, ready to tear them apart.

Memories of those few short days that contributed like few others to forge him into the self-assured man that he was now flashed inside his mind. He didn't know how long he stood there, but it must have been a long time considering that when the front door opened to snap him out of his reverie, the sun was almost entirely disappeared.

"Aren't you going to come inside, Waver?"

Glen McKenzie stood in front of him with the gate standing between them. The man who had managed to figure out on his own that Waver was not really his grandson despite being put under hypnosis, greeted the younger man with the same jovial smile he wore ten years before when he confronted him about his deception.

"Old man." Waver greeted. "How have you been?"

"As well as can be expected from a person my age," the elder replied, opening the gate so that the younger man could enter. "You've grown much, Waver."

"You on the other hand haven't changed one bit, gramps," Waver said with a small grin.

Glen grinned in response. "What can I say? We old folk have to keep ourselves in shape."

They walked inside and Waver could confirm that even the rest of the house had not suffered from the harshness of time. Still, one thing was clearly missing since the last time.

"How's Martha?" he asked, noticing the evident absence of the kind woman, who would have no doubt welcomed her _grandson_ as soon as she knew he had arrived if she could.

"Not so well," Glen answered, his smile shifting to a bittersweet look. "She's upstairs now. She spends most of her time in bed lately."

"What's wrong with her?" Waver asked, unable to keep concern from leaking into his usually detached voice. It was just for a week and it had been only a pretense, but the elderly woman had loved him like her own blood, showing him more kindness in those few short days than he received in the years before and after combined. To say that he didn't care for her would have been an incredible lie.

"Nothing really, she's just old. Our time is coming, and it seems Martha's will come sooner than mine."

"I'm sorry," Waver said, cringing.

"Don't be," Glen said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "There is a time for everything to die, Waver, and neither of us has any regrets. We lived quiet and happy lives. There isn't much else we could have asked for."

"…," Waver had no reply to that. The truth of Glen's statement was undeniable. The very concept of Death existed in everything that had a definite form, as every Magus worth his salt knew. Still, the calm acceptance on Glen's face was something that Waver couldn't begin to grasp. As every practitioner of the Craft, Waver _walked_ with Death, but every time he performed his mysteries it was a struggle to survive, to escape death's grasp and keep walking on his chosen path. To see someone accept his own passing with such contentment was a humbling experience. Still…

"Can I see her?" he asked, voice surprisingly small.

"Of course you can," Glen replied, his voice gentle. "She would be overjoyed to see her grandson once more."

"She doesn't know I'm here?"

"I haven't told her yet. I wasn't sure why you came. I still don't, by the way. I didn't want to her to be hurt if you decided not to visit her."

"Of course," he accepted easily. Over the years he kept in touch with the elderly couple, mostly by letter, but he never came to visit. Not so much because he didn't want to, but because being a Lord and an active member of the clock Tower were truly time consuming activities.

Still, that meant that the only time they had been together was when he deceived and exploited them for his own reasons. The old man never really cared nor blamed Waver for his deception, simply content that his wife had found some happiness in the fake grandson. Yet, it was no wonder he was cautious when it came to Waver.

Regardless of that, Waver nodded toward the stair, declaring his intention to see his _grandmother_. Glen nodded and preceded him on the stairs to the second floor. He then knocked on the door that Waver knew led to their bedroom.

"Dear, are you awake?" he asked.

"What is it, Glen?" the woman asked weakly. "I thought I heard you talking a moment ago? Did somebody come to visit?"

"Yes," the husband smiled, "we happen to have visitors."

"Who is it?"

Waver stepped into view, and for a moment Martha didn't seem to recognize him. Then her eyes widened and her mouth stretched into a brilliant smile.

"Waver," she said, saying the syllables of his name as if cherishing each one. "Oh, how nice of you to visit. Why didn't you tell us beforehand? I would have prepared something. Your favorite dishes, or…"

"No, there's no need," he placated her with a gesture of his hand as he walked to sit near the bed where she was laying. "Please don't get up on my behalf."

"What nonsense," she said as she began to get up. "I may be old, but I still can…"

Waver grasped her hands. "Granny, it's fine. I was in town for work and I thought to drop by. There's no need to bother with anything. I'm just glad I've got to see you."

"You're so kind Waver," the woman replied, moving to hug him from her seated position on the bed. "Now, if only my real grandson was as nice as you…"

Waver froze in the arms of the elderly woman, only to snap abruptly to stare at an equally shell-shocked Glen.

"Martha, you…" her husband swallowed. "How long have you known?"

"I'm not quite sure myself. One day I realized that I just knew that Waver wasn't our real grandson. It didn't matter though."

"Granny… why didn't you say anything?" Waver asked, stunned.

"Oh, you silly boy. Even if you really aren't our grandson, that doesn't change anything to us. You have been like family since those days, even if it was just an illusion." She continued to smile as she said, "Besides, it wasn't like you ever tried to harm us or anything. And you kept writing us even after that. You have been part of this family even when you no longer needed to, so how could I have considered you any differently?"

"I… thank you Granny."

"There's no need to thank me. If anything, I should thank you for bothering with an old woman in some far away country."

"It was no trouble at all," he smiled. "You are the best family I ever had."

Pulling back, the still smiling woman looked into his eyes. "Then if you don't mind, I'd like to know more about this grandson of mine."

"… You must understand that you cannot speak to anyone of what I'm about to say. Many lives would be at risk if you ever spoke of this."

"Of course," they both agreed.

Waver sat on the mattress and Glen did the same. Normally he would have absolutely avoided speaking of Magecraft related topics with a mundane, but this situation was special. Glen and Martha were really like family to him, and the likelihood of them crossing paths with the Association was nearly non-existent.

So Waver told him about his life, explaining the existence and the basic workings of Magecraft. The look of shock on their faces when he performed a few simple feats was absolutely amusing. They recovered from the surprise fairly quickly, though, and Waver continued his tale. He explained in layman's terms the Holy Grail War and his relationship with the tall muscled man who shared a room with him for a time, moving then to the following years and his career inside the Clock Tower as well as his reason for him to return in Japan.

He didn't give them any relevant information, so that they wouldn't be a threat to the rule of secrecy, but still told them enough to realize the gravity of his situation.

"To think that there are things like that out there," Martha mused. "Mages, Heroic Spirits and wish-granting artifacts."

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe it," Waver conceded. "It does sound quite far-fetched."

"It's not that," Glen replied. "We do believe you. It makes a lot of sense considering what happened ten years ago. All those children, and that huge fire... was the terrorist attack on that hotel part of this Grail War?" Waver nodded. "How irresponsible. What were they thinking, fighting a war in the middle of a city?"

"Magi normally don't care much about the lives of others. That's why I must stress that you not speak of this with anyone. Not only would no one believe you, but if any other Magus ever caught wind of you knowing what little you do, it would spell certain death for you and everyone connected to you."

"We won't say anything," Martha promised, giving him another brilliant smile. "Thank you for sharing the truth with us."

"You seem to be very happy, Granny."

"That's because I am. I got to know my extra grandson a little better and I had the privilege to know that all those things I only read about in fairy-tales did exist at one point. Some still do." Her eyes took on a distant look, and her smile became wistful. "I had thought I had seen everything in my life but now I know there is so much more out there. It's a wonderful parting gift, Waver."

Waver smiled, but said in a firm voice, "I'm glad, but please remember what I told you. Speak to no one. There is still at least another couple of Magi in this city. One is the supervisor appointed from the Association. She's a high-schooler according to my info, but she should be as dangerous as any other Magus. She might not go as far as killing you, but she could erase your memories all the same."

"The other being this Archer kid I read about? Isn't what he's doing in contrast with what you told us about Magi? I mean helping people, not killing wanted wizards."

"Sealing Designates," Waver corrected, "but yes, that's the gist of it. They are oddities, but from time to time there are this kind of Magus that doesn't care about research and prefer to use their skills for more practical applications. A Magus like that participated in the last War, actually. He was Japanese too, now that I think about it and… no. Could it possibly be so simple?"

"Waver? Is something wrong?" Glen asked eyeing the suddenly pensive younger man.

"I… I must check something. I should go," he said standing up.

"Of course. Be careful out there."

"I will," he nodded. "I'll try and come visit again as soon as possible," he promised.

Leaving from the elderly couple's house, Waver lit up a cigar and fished a phone from his pocket, rapidly dialing a number.

"It's me. I think I might have an idea on the identity of our suspect. … . Yes, I'm positive. … The name?" he took a deep breath from his cigar and then exhaled the smoke slowly. "The name is **Emiya.**"

* * *

><p><em>In the darkness, the sound of sea was the only audible thing for a long time. Slowly other sounds came: shouting voices; agitated voices; angry voices. It was impossible to discern what they were saying.<em>

_In the distance, somebody was crying._

_Then the voices became closer and clearer, but only one was familiar._

_"I don't want this."_

_"I did not ask what would accommodate your convenience," a female voice replied, sounding unbelievably regal and at the same time incredibly indifferent._

_"Evil is a necessary part of this world as well," another voice echoed, this one old and deep, even tinged with regret._

_"I don't want this," ***** repeated. It was the only thing ***** could do._

_"For the sake of Justice, we shall have you carry the burden of Evil," two groups of voices, both males and females commanded._

_"I don't want this," ***** said, on the verge of tears._

_"Carry the burden of Evil," one cried._

_"Carry the burden of Evil," one demanded._

_"Carry the burden of Evil," one pleaded._

_"Carry the burden of Evil," the final commanded._

_"NOOOOOOO!"_

_The swish of a blade, the ripping of flesh and the splatter of blood choked out everything but that final, desperate scream._

* * *

><p>Shirou woke up with a silent scream, bolting to a seated position. His body was covered, absolutely drenched in sweat, and his hands hurt from grasping the covers of his futon too tightly.<p>

It took him several deep and ragged breaths before he managed swallow the thick knot in the back of his throat. A coppery taste filled his mouth. Brushing his lips with the back of one hand he could confirm that it was indeed blood. In his sleep he had clenched his jaw so tight he had drawn blood.

A glance at his clock revealed that it was barely three in the morning: far too early to be awake even by his standards. Still, the thought of going back to sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. His heart was still beating faster than normal to even contemplate the notion of lying back down. Besides, he needed a bath.

He stood up with a groan and slowly made his way to the bathroom. Five minutes later he was soaking in the water with just his head peeking out of the surface.

It happened again. That was the fourth time he had that particular dream, but it was the most intense and clear experience he had so far. It was so close, so real that he could almost reach out and stop it. He could almost touch the blade and prevent it from spilling blood.

Yet…it was so distant that he could never truly reach it. That blade couldn't be stopped because it already fell long ago, cutting things that weren't supposed to ever be separated and cursing someone to carry a burden that didn't belong to just one person.

Shirou was feeling sick. His brain was filled with things that he wasn't supposed to know. But they were also things that he couldn't turn away from, because that would have meant denying the pain they caused.

Shaking his head he slipped out of the water, feeling at least partially better than when he got in. Without hurry he dried himself and dressed in clean clothes before leaving the bathroom.

On the way back to his room he wasn't surprised to find her awake but still his breath was caught in his throat at the sight.

She stood on the patio, looking up at the clouded sky whose peeking moon bathed her ethereal features in an unnatural light. He wasn't quite sure how long he stood there, just staring at her like she could vanish as soon as the moon disappeared behind its bed of clouds.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, turning her head to him and breaking the spell that rooted him on the spot.

"Yeah," he replied lamely, still unable to form elaborate sentences. "You too?"

"… I dream of the past at times," she said after a moment. "Does it ever happen to you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted as he approached her, joining her in her cloud gazing.

"Is there something you regret?" she inquired. There was an evident curiosity in her voice, but also a tinge of the wariness typical of those who threaded on unknown grounds.

"Many things," he confessed. "Sins that I can never atone for."

She eyed him in silence for a long moment, almost as if she saw him for the first time just then.

"You don't believe in atonement, Shirou-san? You don't think people can redeem themselves?"

"I do believe in it. However, there's no real way to make up for the loss of things that can't be restored. The only compromise is to keep seeking it with every living breath. Then, maybe one day, at the end of my life I can die without regrets, knowing that I did everything in my power and beyond to balance what I sacrificed to get there."

"So young and already you're carrying such a heavy burden," she said, shaking her head. "You've piqued my interest, Shirou-kun. What is it that keeps you awake at night? What sin have you committed that you cannot look away from?"

"The sin of living where others did not," Shirou said without hesitation. "The sin of surviving by sacrificing the lives of others so that I could live a just a moment longer."

"… You?" Caster said, voice filled with doubt and surprise. "I don't think I can wrap my mind around this concept. You are the last person I know that I could imagine doing such a thing."

"Sometimes," he sighed, "our sins aren't really our choice, yet they are pushed on us regardless of what we want for ourselves. Nevertheless, they are ours to bear and to atone for."

Their gazes locked together and she stiffened, his words striking her deeper than any blade ever could. She didn't say anything nor did she need to. Her silence was all the acceptance he required. After all, even things not done and words not spoken have their own weight.

"I should go back to sleep," he said after a while, breaking the not uncomfortable silence.

"Good night, Shirou," she said to his retreating back.

"Pleasant dreams… Medea."

* * *

><p>Medea didn't move, didn't breath, didn't think.<p>

He knew. In a way that defied her comprehension he had found out.

Since when? How long had he known? Hours? Days? Weeks? Could it be the he knew from the very beginning? Could he be that he opened his home to her, the Witch of Betrayal, knowing full well the risk of such a choice?

Why? Why? Whywhywhy?

There was no answer that her mind could come up with. She was left with the knowledge that he was fully aware of what she could do. All her preemptive scheming, all the ways she thought she could exploit him to her gain weren't lost to him, and he had told her as much.

However, his admission wasn't meant to say that he was watching her, keeping his guard up against her treacheries. What he told her in calling her by her true name was: _'you don't have to hide'_.

For the first time since the cursed day when her hand drew the length of Rule Breaker against the neck of her little brother, Medea had no place and no reason to hide.

It was the second most terrifying experience of her life, immediately after slaughtering her own brother for the sake of a man she didn't love or care for, manipulated by the Gods like a puppet. And yet…

Yet it was like a weight had been removed from her shoulders. A burden she had grown so accustomed to bearing for such a long time that she no longer knew it was still crushing her down. Her heart was beating in her chest at an accelerated rate, caught between panic and elation.

She should run, get away from there as fast as she could. Lies and deceits were her best weapon and only armor. Without them she was naked, defenseless, and weak.

But run where? Where could she go? Was there a place where could be accepted as herself, with all of her sins and faults? Could she run away from the one person who knew how tainted she truly was and not despised her for it?

She couldn't.

No matter how much she knew how weak she was in his regards without her web of lies…he just couldn't bring herself to leave.

Because she had been given an opportunity: a single chance to be something different from the embodiment of betrayal. Because he had forgiven her for her sins, even if she still had to atone for them, even if she could never truly be cleansed from them.

Defenseless but not alone, exposed but not despised, Medea did the only thing her confused mind allowed her to do. For the first time in her _lives_, Medea of Colchis cried tears of relief and -perhaps - happiness.

For the first time to her memory, _hope _wasn't just a word for dreamers and fools, but a distant promise shining down on her like a shy spring moon.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN.

Did it really take me a whole month to write this chapter? Yeah, it certainly did. Then again I also managed to update another of my fics and be sick in bed for a week, so I can say that I've been quite productive.

So, I already know that this chapter is going to raise more than a few eyebrows, especially because of Waver's intuition about Emiya and Shirou's knowledge of Medea's name.

Most of it will be explained in the next chapter but if you can't wait come ask question in my forums and you'll be answered.

That's it for now.

See ya!


	18. Her Ally

**Chapter 17 - Her Ally  
>(Published: 12.23.12 - Beta: RavingScholar, Zaralann)<strong>

* * *

><p>"How is the Magus Killer related to this case?" Jun asked, frowning.<p>

"What do you know about Emiya Kiritsugu?" Waver asked, oscillating a glass of whisky in his hand, causing the ice to clink against the container. "Besides that he was killed in action, I mean."

"Ruthless, efficient," Jin replied. "He never screwed up a job unless there were extenuating circumstances that couldn't be accounted for beforehand. A real Pro if I ever saw one. Almost a shame he kicked the bucket. Could have taught a few newbies how to be an asset instead of a liability. I agree with my wife, though. How does he relate to this?"

"Emiya Kiritsugu wasn't the man most people believed him to be. No doubt he was everything you said…but there was more. He had an ideal that he pursued most of his life."

"An ideal?" Jun inquired.

"To save as many lives as possible," Waver explained. "Every job the Magus Killer took had the explicit purpose of saving as many lives as possible, either in the short or the long run. He never took a job just for the money, never killed a target if their death didn't mean someone else got to live longer because of it."

"Wait," Jin interrupted, holding up a hand. "Are you saying that he was trying… trying to be a hero?"

"Pretty much," Waver confirmed. "No mistake, he was a monster like few others before him. He didn't care who his targets were, didn't care if they were guilty or completely innocent of every conceivable sin. Age, gender, religion weren't a factor to him unless they were relevant to the mission. If in exchange it saved more lives than he took, he killed them without a second thought. He killed his own father because he experimented on a village, turning the residents into Dead Apostles and their spawn. He later killed his mentor by shooting down the Dead infested plane she was trying to land on the Hudson river."

"That's sick," Jin said. "How do you know of this?"

"My family took quite the interest in him after the Fourth Grail War, since he was the one who killed my predecessor and destroyed our family Crest in the process. Surely karma is having its laugh now," Waver said cynically. "Here we are, back where everything started, trying to regain the thing we lost by prying it from the legacy of the very man who first took it away from us."

"I can certainly see a connection there," Jin agreed. "However, there is yet no tangible proof of Archer being the son of Emiya. To begin with, his only known living relative is an Einzbern homunculus. Do you believe he had a son outside of his marriage?"

"It wouldn't be that much of a surprise, but that's hardly relevant," Waver said, brushing aside the question. "What matters in this case is the goal of our target, not the Magecraft. What we have here is an unregistered Magus, apparently making use of his Thaumaturgy to pursue an objective that is far too similar to Emiya Kiritsugu's, and he happens to do so in the last place where the Magus Killer was seen alive."

"What you mean to say is that Archer isn't necessarily the inheritor of Emiya's Magecraft, but rather of his ideals? I can see a connection, but the modus operandi is far too different if your information about the Magus Killer is correct. I still find it a little far-fetched, by the way," Jin said with a frown of thought. "I met the man personally, and it never crossed my mind that he could be like you describe him. His eyes were far too cold for a man that cared about strangers."

"Still, there are too many coincidences for us to ignore," Jun pointed out. "Besides…"

"Besides?" both men asked together.

"… There is just one Emiya living in Fuyuki according to the phone book: Emiya Shirou. Here's the address."

"Well," Waver said after a moment, "that simplifies matters. Check this guy out. If there's any indication he's a Magus, then we've got our Archer. Do not approach him until we can estimate how much of a threat he is. If he learned anything from the Magus Killer, then he's bound to be dangerous"

"Understood," the husband-wife pair replied, and they begun gathering the things they needed to carry out their assigned task. It was night, and there was no better time to spy on someone without being noticed.

Waver remained in the hotel. There was no need to expose himself at this stage. If this boy, Shirou, turned out to be a Magus, Waver needed to come up with a suitable plan to approach him. He considered contacting the elders to update them on the recent development, but he already knew what they'd say: kill the son of the Magus Killer.

Waver didn't have any personal grudge against the deceased Emiya, especially if he considered that it was him who had landed Waver his position and noble title. He had even less against his son. The boy hadn't played any part in the drama that was the downfall of the first El-Melloi.

Sure he was a liability to the secret of Magecraft, but how much of a liability was he really? For years his father performed his tasks in the mundane parts of the world, and never once did he come close to exposing Magecraft to the world.

In light of his revealed origins, Waver was sure that Archer had to be absolutely aware just how many people would die if he screwed up and caused the Clock Tower to intervene. Unless he was absolutely incompetent, he wouldn't jeopardize the secret and force the Association to perform a Purge.

That being said, Waver still had to make sure that he didn't have any knowledge or, or at least any intention to reveal the deal Guilford had with the El-Melloi. There was also the matter of the missing Crest. In the case of Rule of Blood, its particular adaptive trait made it possible to pass it down to just about anyone regardless of parentage with the previous owner. This unique trait made it so that it wasn't the Magus that received the Sealing Designation but the Crest itself.

Vincent Guilford used to be one of the most likely candidates to receive the Crest when its previous owner decided to pass it down. However, when he found out that he wasn't going to receive it, but another Magus would, he killed both its owner and the prospective inheritor and then fled from the Association, gaining a Sealing Designation both for the murder and for having stolen the Crest from the Clock Tower.

If Waver managed to retrieve it, his status within the ranks of the Association would no doubt increase, and if he played his cards right upon his return, he could very well solve the El-Melloi's issue of being without a Crest.

Of course, that all depended on Archer's willingness to cooperate. If at all possible, Waver preferred the path of least violence, but if the teenager proved to be unreasonable and unwilling to part with the Crest then, well… extreme measures would be required.

But there was no reason to worry about that now. They still had to establish without a doubt whether the only known Emiya in town was actually a Magus or not. Everything else came after that.

With that out of his mind, Waver relaxed in his chair and took another sip from his drink, musing idly about the circularity of life.

* * *

><p>Shirou woke up with a yawn a bit later than usual. He hadn't managed to sleep much the previous night, not with the nightmares and his conversation with Ca…Medea to think about. Not to mention the sound of her muffled sobs reaching him in his futon despite her attempts at keeping quiet.<p>

Shirou knew that calling her by her name would have an irreversible effect, causing the status quo to change in an unpredictable manner. Originally he had intended to wait a bit longer before revealing his knowledge of her identity…but something happened the previous night, a connection was made between the two of them. Shirou had capitalized on that opportunity without even thinking.

Even if they still spoke to each other by hinting at things rather than openly stating something, last night Shirou felt that their guard against each other was considerably lower than it ever had been up to that point. He didn't know if it was because they had found some common ground in each other's unspoken burden, but he felt compelled to speak nonetheless. So he let out the secret he had been keeping since… well, since the very first day.

Yes, he knew from the beginning who she really was, even if his conscious mind didn't quite process that information until much later, when he stopped and considered things carefully. He knew in the same way he had discovered Tsubame Gaeshi: through a blade.

"Rule Breaker," he whispered softly, closing his eyes. In the darkness behind his eyelids, Shirou could see it more clearly than he ever could in reality. He had caught only a glimpse of it the night he killed Guilford, a purple glint in the dark night that cut the ties between an unwilling Servant and her Master.

The serpent-like blade, cursed with blood, tears and regrets was burned into his mind in every detail, even those that the naked eye couldn't perceive. Its composition, forging process and accumulated experience were clear for Shirou to see.

He didn't quite understand how he did, but through the blade he was able to see its connection with its owner and the twisted history they shared. To his conscious brain it was just information, broken down and listed in a way that he could comprehend. However, while sleeping his mind stopped giving a rational sense to the onslaught of knowledge that was Rule Breaker and he just saw things that he wasn't supposed to.

Her past, her burdens...her sins.

He felt ashamed for knowing such things. It was much worse than seeing her naked. It was like staring at her very soul regardless of her desire to share that knowledge. Frankly, Shirou would have preferred to keep it to himself, if only to not make her feel exposed and uncomfortable around him.

Still, he knew that keeping silent wasn't for the best in the long run. From what he knew of her character by their past interaction and the knowledge that came with Rule Breaker, Shirou was aware that Medea was probably thinking about ways to exploit their unspoken alliance and that she was ready to discard him at her earliest convenience.

Anybody else would have been appalled, disgusted by the way she considered him disposable after all he had done for her…anybody else but not him.

He never really cared about himself to begin with, not where other people's happiness and well-being were concerned. In fact, if the situation called for it, he was more than willing to lay down his life for her at a moment's notice, so he wasn't really bothered that she was planning to use him as a human shield.

If she wanted to live and not hurt innocent bystanders in the process, then Shirou had no qualms with dying for her. He preferred not to, obviously, but he didn't really care so long as somebody else got to live in exchange.

Of course, this complete disregard of his own well-being was what had worried Kiritsugu until his dying day. Distorted, Kiritsugu used to call him, and Shirou admitted that the man was probably right. No normal person would willingly throw away his life for a stranger, and Shirou had given this concept much thought over the years. However, no matter how much he dwelled on it he never reached the conclusion that it was wrong for him to do so.

There was nothing wrong with wanting to help others. No matter what other people said there was nothing wrong with it, and more than everything else that belief was the single most important thing that made Emiya Shirou able to live with himself. Truly, it was the only way to balance his Sin of Living.

He knew, rationally, that as a child he didn't have the power to help all those people. He couldn't even help himself much less somebody else. Still, he selfishly sought survival by disregarding the people dying around him, even as they tried to save others only for those others to die a few moments later.

Even if no one in the world would blame him for it, Emiya Shirou couldn't forgive himself. It just wasn't possible, because doing so was equal to denying his own self. The only thing he could do was keep atoning, day after day, saving life after life even if it meant losing his own in the process. He was born again from that fire for the sole purpose of preventing such tragedies from ever being repeated.

Therefore he knew; he knew better than anybody else how Medea felt. He had found something in Kiritsugu's smile…something that gave him purpose, a way to balance the weight of his burdens.

But she hadn't. In her darkest time no one smiled at her, no one reached out for her. No one tried to save her.

Shunned by everyone, made into an unwilling scapegoat for other people's sins, she lived the only way she knew: manipulating, backstabbing, betraying. No more. Even if he would fall by her hands later on, Shirou would be the person to believe in her to the very last moment. To give her the opportunity she had been seeking all along.

If Kiritsugu was right and saving someone _- truly saving someone -_ meant more than letting them live another day then this was it.

The past couldn't be changed, the sins couldn't be erased…but so long as she wanted to atone then the future was yet to be determined. If Shirou had anything to say about it, she would find her salvation.

* * *

><p>Medea stirred awake. It was an unusually slow process for her, whose dreams were constantly haunted and to whom awakening represented a respite from the nightmares.<p>

Not last night. Tired and emotionally drained, she crawled into her futon and fell into a slumber so deep she couldn't believe it. There were no dreams of any sort, just a peaceful lulling darkness that was free of thoughts. It was a novel experience. Waking up more rested than she ever had before, Medea realized that for the first time in a long while she didn't know what to do…and she was surprised to find that didn't scare her in the slightest.

She slipped out of bed and changed into her clothes, stepping out of her room and into a bright new day filled with promises.

She frowned…okay. Now _that_ was too much even with her newfound levity. She wasn't some naïve little girl. The world was still as ugly as ever. She had just found something _-someone-_ not entirely worthless. It was bound to happen sometime. Yes, cynicism suited her much better. She felt more comfortable with taking things with a grain of salt. It spared her many bitter disappointments, and she had experienced enough of those to last a lifetime or two.

But still, hey, she never once thought the day would come that someone would know who she really was and not spit in her face, before she extracted their guts and force-fed it to them for the gall of doing such a thing, of course.

Wasn't that absolutely wonderful?

Not being judged, she meant, not force-feeding people their own warm entrails. That was mildly amusing at best. Too much blood involved and all the screaming got boring after a while. Cleaning the stains away from her robes afterward was always a mess, even with Magecraft and…Err. Yes, she was happy and she wasn't used to it. Her mind was unable to stay focused on anything, making her almost feel dizzy. It was like being a little drunk.

So, seeing how thinking straight was downright impossible she decided not to. For once in her life she would try not to plot every single step ahead and just go with the flow. She knew it was what most people did every day, but to her mind it was a new and thrilling experience.

She skipped more than walked, following the appetizing scent of breakfast she had grown accustomed to being greeted by in the morning. She stepped into the room and her eyes immediately snapped to the kitchen, where the red haired Magus was… staring right at her.

"Ah…good morning," he said in surprise, like he didn't expect to see her there. "Did you sleep well…Medea-san?"

Her name rolled out of his mouth after a moment of hesitation, echoing in her ears almost like a foreign word. She wasn't used to hearing it pronounced without venom and… was that a hint of blush she saw on his face?

Wait… was he feeling embarrassed for being privy to a part of her life she hadn't shared with him? And what was that warmth she felt spreading on her cheeks as well? Oh, Gods… was she blushing too? She felt the urge to cover herself, to summon her robes and hide behind the safety of her hood.

No, no, no. That was absolutely undignified. She would not be embarrassed like a teenage girl found in a compromising position. Not at all.

"I-I-I slept well enough," she said with no little difficulty. Stuttering was definitely the first step to be regal and dignified. Way to go, Medea.

"Ah, uh… Good. Breakfast will be ready in a minute so please have a seat," Shirou replied, sounding as awkward as she felt.

She nodded and almost dove to the table, placing herself with her back turned to the kitchen so that he couldn't see her face. She needed a moment to regain her composure.

Okay. Breathe in, and breathe out. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. She was an adult and even if she was ashamed of many things she'd done in her lifetime, she wasn't being judged for them. Not in this place and not by him.

She managed to calm herself just in time for him to join her at the table. Only then she noticed that there were plates only for two.

"Sakura-san and Taiga-san won't be joining us this morning?" she asked, with a normal voice this time.

"No," he answered with the same tone, having recovered from his earlier embarrassment as well. "Sakura had an argument with her brother over the frequency of her visits so she won't come as often anymore, and Taiga had a teacher's meeting early this morning so she couldn't come either."

"I suppose that is the reason why Kuzuki-san hasn't come to train you this morning as well."

"Yes. I don't like to slow down my training but I can't say that some rest isn't appreciated once in a while. I heal fast but his blows still hurts, you know?"

"I can imagine," she chuckled. "So it's just the two of us, then?"

"Pretty much," he confirmed and then started eating.

Just the two of them, huh? Now that she thought about it, they had almost never been alone in the house. Sakura and Taiga came by practically every morning and the latter lounged about every evening until it was time to retire for the night. It was surprising that Shirou had the privacy to practice his Thaumaturgy at all.

Speaking of Thaumaturgy and all things spiritual, she couldn't help but wonder how he'd found out her real identity. She didn't think she had said anything that could have set him on the right track. Even if he had tracked the etymology of the word Megissa back to Greece, she certainly wasn't the only person in the history of that country deserving of such a title. There was the possibility that Guilford had written it down somewhere, but the man wasn't so much of a fool as to put on paper one of the most important secrets a Master could have. There was just no benefit in doing so and everything to lose if it fell into an enemy's hands.

"How did you know?" she decided to ask halfway through breakfast. There was no need to specify what she was talking about. Shirou looked up at her and then looked away only to return to stare at her after a moment.

"I'm not sure I can explain it myself," he said after a moment. "You know… I've been dreaming of swords almost every night since I can remember."

"Of swords?" she asked, not quite getting how this related to her question but allowed him to elaborate nonetheless.

"Yes. I used to not think much about it since it never really troubled me, but… Do you remember the night we met? When I killed Vincent? How I killed him?"

"Of course," she nodded. How could she forget that? "It was a magnificent technique the likes of which I had never seen before, even in my era."

"Yeah. Funny thing is…neither had I."

"I beg your pardon?" she blinked.

"I'd never even heard of a technique called Tsubame Gaeshi, much less developed or used it, before that night," Shirou said, his serious face devoid of any hint of joking.

"But… certainly you jest. A technique like that cannot be made on the spot under such circumstances. It was too refined to be the product of instinct."

"I know," he nodded. "I didn't make it up, I found it. In the sword."

"Found it… in the sword?"

"Yes. I'm not sure how this works and I found about it that very night but… when I see a blade I can tell everything about it. The materials, forging process and accumulated experience, its history if you want, are recorded in my brain without flaws."

"Its…history? Then…"

"Your Noble Phantasm," he continued, "is Rule Breaker. Its power is to cut all Magical Contracts: a nullifier of all Magecrafts. It was given you by the gods when they forced you to… I'm sorry. I know everything. No, rather I saw everything."

"You saw… what exactly?" she choked out.

"When I sleep I see the memories of your past as if I were there when they happened. I see the things you were forced to do with it and the things you did afterwards of your own volition as well. I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to pry into your life."

Medea didn't say anything. Her throat was too dry to form words. He _saw_ it? All the shameful things she did? The blood she spilled, the people she killed, the sins she committed? All of them?

"Since…when?"

"Since the very beginning, I guess. Not consciously, but I never once asked myself who you were because I already knew within me."

For a long minute the only sound was the ticking of a clock. She processed his words, unable to make sense out of them, completely incapable of finding a rational motivation. Finally, not having been able to find an answer by herself she was forced to ask, afraid that his reply would shatter even further the convictions upon which stood her entire existence.

"Then why…if you knew it all along…" Medea tried to swallow. "If you knew the extent of my crimes, then why did you welcome me into your home? Why have you supported me? Why have you trusted me?" she demanded to know, glaring at him. Confusion easily turned into rage and it was focused entirely on the young man in front of her, who withstood the full wrath of a Heroic Spirit without flinching, strong of his resolve.

"Because nobody else ever did," Shirou said, confident in his simple phrase that made Medea freeze entirely.

"W-what?"

"Did they? Did someone ever even try to give you a chance at redemption? Was there even a single occurrence when you weren't made into the villain because it was convenient? Even those who knew didn't do anything." There was anger in his voice. Not anger directed at her, but at those faceless people he was referring to. "Even the man for which you were forced to sacrifice everything turned his back on you as soon as had something to gain from it. No, nobody ever gave you the chance to be something but what they made you to be."

"I-I-I…," she stuttered, unable to deny the truth of his words.

"Then I'll be that person," he continued. "I'll be the one to believe in you even if nobody else does."

"Why are…why are you doing this for me?"

"Ten years ago," he sighed, "Emiya Kiritsugu forced his Servant to destroy the Holy Grail. The resulting explosion caused a fire that claimed the lives of over five hundred people. I was there when it happened."

"What…?"

"Emiya Kiritsugu isn't my real father. I have no recollection of who my parents were or even who I was before that night. The only thing I can remember is walking through the flames, making my way over the burned corpses, ignoring the pleas for help of the people around me."

He licked his lips, his gaze distant and haunted.

"I died that day, I know I did. I… was fine with it. I had already lived longer than everybody else by denying them the same salvation I sought for myself. I selfishly kept walking forward when everyone died, left and right, often in order to allow someone else to live only for those they saved to die a few moments later. I paid them no mind and I knew that I was tainting myself by doing so, but I didn't care. Then, I finally fell and prepared myself to die like the rest of them, when…Kiritsugu found me. He was so overjoyed at being able to save even a single life that he was crying in happiness. I was saved. I, who did nothing but ignore the pain of everyone else, was saved."

"Then yesterday night you…"

"Yes," he nodded. "In a way I can understand how you feel, but I have been luckier than you ever were. Someone saved me, giving me a chance to live and a way to atone for my sin, but you… you were never given the same opportunity. For this reason, even if no one over believed in you, even if you made an enemy out of the entire world, I will be your ally. No matter what happens I will save you. I swear it."

Medea was at loss for words. Certainly there had to be a mistake. An ally…for her? Not someone to join forces with to achieve a common goal, wary of an imminent betrayal, but someone who stood by her side for no other reason than to aid her?

That had to be the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. Truly, did this boy's foolishness know no boundaries at all? A mere human declaring that he would save a Heroic Spirit? She should have laughed in his face and been done with him right there and then.

But Medea didn't laugh. In fact she could hardly form words anymore. Clutching her skirt tightly she looked down, hoping that her bangs would hide her watery eyes. Rendered speechless by his proclamation, she said nothing but gave a brief nod. Her shoulders were shaking and a few tears fell from her eyes and onto the back of her hands.

He gave no sign of noticing her predicament, but she knew that he couldn't have possibly missed her reaction from so close. She didn't thank him for his oath and he didn't seem to need it. She didn't even question the origin of the tissue suddenly resting on the table in front of her. Without compliments or words of gratitude she used it to dry her eyes and nose, recomposing herself.

When she finally looked up her plate was filled with food again. Shirou had resumed eating without a word and without once looking at her in a small attempt to preserve her pride. She almost snorted at his pathetic attempt at being considerate when he had just destroyed all the convictions and beliefs that had defined her both in life and death.

Truly, he had to be the biggest idiot in the history of idiocy worldwide, but that…that was something she could live with. Without noticing her own smile, Medea resumed her breakfast silently, though she couldn't really pay any attention to the delicious flavors in her mouth. She was too busy savoring the new, nameless warmth slowly spreading inside her.

* * *

><p>"So it's confirmed?" Waver asked the Chinese couple.<p>

"Yes. It seems you were correct" the man confirmed. "It's subtle and we wouldn't have found it if we weren't looking for it specifically, but there's no doubt. There's a Bounded Field around the property."

"And so we have found our culprit," Waver said in satisfaction. "Any indication about the nature of his Magecraft?"

"None that I could discern from the Bounded Field itself," the woman explained, " but I believe we should proceed with caution. The ward was probably made to detect intruders, but it could just be the trigger to activate a more serious defense."

"Furthermore," the man continued, "not many Magi are able to erect a Bounded Field that can't be immediately be perceived by others. We should consider him a serious threat unless proven otherwise, if being the heir of the Magus Killer wasn't reason enough."

"I agree," Waver nodded. "I would rather take a nonviolent approach if possible, but it's better if we're ready for anything. Set up a watch around his house and tail him without alerting him of your presence when he leaves. I want to know what he does, when he does it and with whom he does it. One way or another, we aren't going to leave without that Crest."

"Understood," they confirmed. They then began to schedule their watch over the Emiya boy.

* * *

><p>The drawing of a Runic Circle was a long and painstakingly precise task. Even for a genius like Tohsaka Rin, there was no way to avoid the many hours spent on her knees and elbows with a brush in her hands, carefully drawing every single line.<p>

No, it wasn't absolutely necessary to be insanely precise but for superior efficiency it was better to do everything to the letter. Even if the Grail itself did most of the procedure, Rin didn't feel like leaving anything to chance, not after everything that had already happened. She had to make up for the loss of her jewels in every possible way.

Still, her knees and elbows hurt, just like her back did. It didn't help that she was in that time of the month either, but she couldn't afford to wait for it to pass. The day of the summoning drew near, and sometimes it happened that a flaw in a circle wasn't evident until it was complete. That was, in fact, the third time she had started from scratch.

So she cursed under her breath as she drew, ignoring her aching body and promising to revisit all of her pains on the first Master she came across during the War. Oh yes, she would definitely carve the meaning of pain onto the first unfortunate fellow to cross her path on the battlefield. Someone would regret that she had to go through all of this; she would make sure of that even if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

><p>Somewhere in England a phone rang. One, two, three times before the receiver was picked up.<p>

"There's a development," the male voice said in a heavily accented English. "It might interest you."

"Do tell," the elder said in response, knowing that if he was hearing it from this person instead of Waver, then it was likely something interesting that the adopted Magus didn't want him to know yet.

"We found the last Emiya."

"…Bring me his head," he hissed after a moment of silence. "No matter what the cost."

"What of Lord El-Melloi? He might not agree with that course of action."

"If he becomes a nuisance, disable him. You should be skilled enough to do it without doing any lasting damage. I certainly pay you as if you were."

"Understood," he replied evenly.

"What of the Crest? Did you find it?"

"We haven't been able to verify its integrity, but there is no reason to believe he bothered to take it from the corpse of Guilford only to destroy it later."

"Your primary objective is still retrieving it. I'll be expecting regular reports from you. Keep me updated."

"Yes sir," the man replied before hanging up, leaving the elder alone with his thoughts.

Emiya, Emiya, Emiya. That name was a curse that even after ten years made bile rise to his throat. The name of the lowly Japanese Magus who had dared to destroy centuries of painstakingly accumulated Magecraft with the mere pull of a trigger of a gun.

A gun! As if his crime wasn't heinous enough, he insulted them by doing it with a product of the modern age. Had the man no shame at all?

But he didn't stop there, did he? Not satisfied with taking away their legacy in the most horrifying manner possible, he had the gall to die before they could extract their revenge on him or the rest of his blood. The only living relative, an Einzbern Homunculus, was safely behind the wards of her family and even at the apex of their influence the El-Melloi could never demand retribution from them, especially not after they declared Emiya _persona non grata_.

But now… now things had changed. Another Emiya had been found. Another bearer of that cursed name. He would pay. He would undoubtedly pay in blood for the crimes of his father until not a single drop could be found in his veins.

That thought brought a smile to his face. Soon the scores would be settled, and the El-Melloi could return to their status among their peers.

Soon. Very soon.

* * *

><p>Adachi was feeling rather disappointed. He spent days trying to discover what was so special about Tohsaka Rin, but he couldn't come up with a definitive answer that could justify a wealthy man going to such lengths to have her.<p>

Oh, she was special enough; he could recognize that. He wasn't much into young girls but he could definitely say that she was a cut above the other teenagers in her school. A little investigation revealed that she was the school idol, which didn't surprise him. What did surprise him was the girl's sharp instinct.

In spite of what he led his colleagues to believe, Adachi could be subtler than most. If he wanted to tail someone without being noticed, he very well could. Not so much in the case of Tohsaka Rin.

He tried to follow her in public, mixing in with the crowd or looking at her by sitting at a different table when she entered a local establishment. However, every time he turned his eyes on her, there she was, staring right back at him with those piercing eyes of her.

In one instance, he was following her from several meters back. He was sure he was distant enough for her not to notice him, but when she disappeared around a corner and he followed after he almost ran into her. She was just standing there, waiting for him to show up. She knew he was following her all along and ambushed him. What kind of girl knew that she was being followed and set up an ambush for her stalker?

In the end he was forced to show his badge and make an excuse for following her, saying that they were still looking for the person behind Kazama's kidnapping and that they were keeping an eye on all of her closest female friends. She seemed to relax after that, but not by much.

Anyway, from that day on he stopped following her, resorting to long-range telescopes and microphones to keep track of her. Still, from time to time, when he was spying on her from half a block away she turned around and stared back, like she could see him from several hundred meters away.

Damn, that girl creeped him out, and coming from one who had the hobby of stalking and prying into other people's secrets, that was saying something.

Regardless, Adachi knew that there was something odd going on. Dojima had to be onto it as well if his current paranoid streak was any indication. He didn't know what happened to his boss as he refused to even hint at the subject, but the already ironclad detective had become even more buttoned up.

So yeah, Adachi was disappointed by the lack of results. Nonetheless, he was still excited. There was something big going on and he could swear that the Tohsaka girl was right in the middle of it. It never dawned on him that if he weren't such a twisted individual, then he would have been an awesome detective.

* * *

><p>In spite of what people thought of her, Taiga was sharp as a knife, especially where her ward and her students were concerned. She certainly was a tad on the childish side and prone to overreact to things that most people would simply disregard. She knew, but she didn't really care; it just made her the charming young woman that she was.<p>

Still, she was anything but dumb. She said nothing because she had no definite proof, but she had a concrete suspicion that her little brother Shirou was the infamous Archer that everyone was so interested in lately. Oh, he thought that he had everyone fooled, the idiot, and Taiga could admit that he had been good enough to avoid suspicion for such a long time. Yet, that he actually thought he could escape her notice forever was sheer madness even for her.

She said nothing, but she knew. She knew that and many other things as well.

For instance, she knew that something must have happened that morning between Shirou and Megissa. There was an awkwardness between them that hadn't been present before. She could tell by the way they always seemed not to meet the other's eyes.

Tch, count on Shirou to put on the moves when she wasn't around. Didn't he have any consideration for his Onee-sama? What about her entertainment? She demanded to have her fair share of his embarrassment! She just knew something juicy had happened, but try as she might she couldn't coax it out of them without being obvious about it.

Poor Sakura, she thought. The girl had nurtured a crush on Shirou for years now, probably since the first day they met, and here came a complete stranger swooping her away from the focus of his attentions. Perhaps she should encourage him toward the younger girl somehow? It wasn't like she had something against Megissa, even if Taiga was sure that the foreigner was hiding something from her. She was, after al,l a person in a difficult situation who had found in Shirou the help she needed. Taiga wouldn't bur surprised to find that it was a calculated move on Megissa's part.

The foreign woman's carefully masked detachment of the past few days gave Taiga enough reason to be wary, and this sudden development with Shirou could have been the final warning if not for the fact that Megissa was smiling, genuinely so, even at Taiga; this despite the fact that they had barely had a few polite conversations before.

Yes, Taiga didn't know what happened between Shirou and Megissa, but it seemed to be a good thing so far. She would refrain from taking a position in defense of her little brother for the time being, if only because she trusted Shirou's judgment even if she didn't show it most of the time.

* * *

><p>After a surprisingly uneventful dinner, Shirou and Medea retired to his Workshop. The Servant had finished cataloguing her deceased Master's things and was now scribbling down some ideas for a number of low ranked Mystic Codes she could craft with the material at her disposal.<p>

She didn't get much work done, though, as her attentions slipped often to the teen Magus sitting at his desk with his back turned to her while he typed on the wondrous thing that was his computer.

They hadn't spoken much after breakfast. Shirou had left for school immediately after and didn't return until late in the evening. That left Medea with much time to think, but with no previous experience whatsoever on what to do.

Her ally, he called himself. She didn't know what to make of it. Try as she might she could no longer predict the outcome of her strategies, mostly because she could no longer envision throwing him away when convenient. No mistakes, she was still the very jaded person she had always been, but she had found something she never believed to exist and there was only one of those. That made it _- him –_ invaluable. She just couldn't discard him like a cheap resource, could she?

So, if she couldn't afford to lose him, then she would have to turn him from an expendable resource to an asset. Therefore, she couldn't afford to disregard his shortcomings when it came to his own Magecraft.

"Shirou-s… Shirou?" she called, willingly ignoring the use of suffixes.

"Hm?" he replied, not removing his eyes from what he was working on.

"Undress."

"Excuse me?" he asked, turning around to look at her with slightly widened eyes and a crack in his voice.

"Undress," she demanded, standing up. "Right now."

"N-now wait just a moment," he yelped. "What is this all about?"

"I need to examine your body and I can't quite do that with your clothes in the way, now can I?"

"I s-suppose not, but what for?"

"I must determine the reason for your ability to understand swords as you do. If it's not something you developed on your own, then it must be a natural talent. I intend to figure how it works and how to use it to our advantage."

"Uh. I never thought about that," he said after a moment.

"You didn't?" she blinked. "Shirou, do you realize that if you can determine everything and anything about a blade just by looking at it, then you can know the identity of every Servant and their abilities without them even revealing their Noble Phantasm beforehand? It's probably the greatest asset we could ever hope to have. How could you not realize that by yourself?"

"I'm sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, scratching his chin. "To be completely honest I had a lot of things to worry about. Between the media hunting for me and trying to hide that I'm a Magus from Tohsaka on top of my training with Kuzuki-sensei, I didn't really have much time to dwell on it. Every attempt I made to discover more on my own in the past few days didn't give consistent results, anyway."

"You… experimented on yourself without results… and didn't think to ask me about it?" she asked with a hint of anger in her voice.

"Well… in my defense, I didn't know how to approach the subject with you without revealing… you know, that I knew about you. And besides…"

"What?" she asked curiously.

"I didn't choose to be your ally because you could help me advance my Magecraft. I'm not like Guilford."

"Oh," she said sitting back again, her anger deflating as fast as it rose. "Of course not. … Shirou?"

"Hm?"

Leaning on her chair she reached out with a hand to his face and…

_***Flick!***_

"Ouch!" he yelped, holding his abused nose. "What the hell was that for?"

"Shirou, you're my ally, right?" she asked, ignoring his demand for explanations.

"Of course I am," he replied, still rubbing his nose. "That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Then don't coddle me," she snapped. She appreciated his concern and the consideration for her feelings, but she wasn't some pathetic little woman unable to take care of herself. She was the prideful princess of Colchis and a Heroic Spirit feared not only for her ruthlessness but also for her abilities. He might have moved her in a way no other ever did, but that didn't mean she was about to become someone to be protected from all things.

"If you truly are, then that means I'm also your ally in return," she continued, crossing her arms over her chest. "And allies help each other out with things they can't do by themselves, don't they?"

"You're right," he replied with a smile. He held out his hand for her to shake which she did, but when her slender fingers wrapped around it her smile turned a little feral and her eyes gleamed with malice.

"Now, undress."

"Eeep!"

* * *

><p>Thankfully for Shirou, Medea didn't need for him to be completely naked. He just had to expose his torso so that she had enough surface area to paint a number of circles over his back and chest. Still, the feeling of her feminine finger sliding over his skin in a lightly dancing motion had a not indifferent arousing quality that he couldn't just ignore.<p>

It took all of his willpower as a Magus not to squirm under her touch and not to shiver when her warm breath washed over his skin. Seriously, was she doing it on purpose? She had been drawing on his body for well over fifteen minutes now, but it had taken less time to cover several square meters of walls in Guilford's mansion with runes.

He didn't disregard the thought that she was teasing him on purpose. He had caused her to cry two times in less than twenty-four hours, and while he thought they were a positive sign he was starting to think she was getting retribution for hurting her pride as a Heroic Spirit. And besides, reforming or not, she did have a mean streak worthy of a Witch that Shirou didn't think she was willing to give up anytime soon.

"It's done," she said standing behind his back with a hand placed between his shoulders. "Now trigger your Circuits and let Prana flow normally."

With practiced ease the hammer of a gun fell inside his mind, and twenty-seven pathways hummed to life in the recesses of his soul. For an indefinite amount of time he simply gathered Mana from the saturated air of his Workshop and forced it to run into his Circuits, creating the refined energy that Magi used to actualize their Mysteries.

"That's enough," she said after a while and Shirou unplugged his Circuits. "Tell me Shirou, are you perhaps an idiot?"

"Hey, I might not be the sharpest knife around," he admitted, "but what did I do to warrant that title now?"

"What's your Element, Shirou?" she asked patiently, but tapping her foot in annoyance.

"Uh…I don't know?" he asked, sounding sheepish even to his ears.

"Exac- Hey! What do you mean you don't know?"

"How many meanings are there to _'I don't know'_? Ouch!" he cried. "Quit pinching me."

"Are you trying to tell me," she hissed into his ears, "that you have been practicing Magecraft for close to ten years without even knowing what your Element was?"

"It couldn't be helped," he yelped out. "Kiritsugu was laying low back then. He couldn't get the materials he needed to perform the ritual without alerting the Magic community that he was still alive and active. The curse of the Grail had destroyed most of his Circuits too, leaving him as a cripple as far as Magecraft goes."

"And you continued to practice Magecraft even under such circumstances?" she asked in disbelief. "If I hadn't just determined that your Element is actually _Sword_, my money would have been on _Idiocy_."

"Can _Idiocy_ even be an Elem- Wait," he blinked. "_Sword_ you said?"

"Yes, it shouldn't come as a surprise, all things considered."

"But… can such a thing as _Sword_ even exist as an Element to begin with?"

"It's the first time I've seen it myself," she replied. "Technically every Concept can be an Element, but most are too distant from Humanity to belong to a person," she sighed. "I guess that means you don't know your Origin either."

"No, I don't. What is it?" he asked looking at her. She gave him a long hard stare, but said nothing. "Well?" Again she said nothing. "What? Oh. Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."

"I'm not kidding at all, _Incarnation_."

Incarnation, she called him. A person that was born with aligned Element and Origin. It was a rare occurrence even in the world of Magi, and Shirou's case was even more so. Being the Incarnation of an exceedingly rare Concept was probably enough of a reason to receive a Sealing Designation or at the very least to be regarded by other Magi as a test subject rather than a fellow practitioner.

"I suppose that would explain a number of things," he said after a while.

"It would," she agreed. "Your nature by itself is almost enough to explain your incredible ability to sympathize with blades to a degree I didn't believe possible. If we combine that with your proficiency with Structural Grasping, I daresay we have figured how you do what you do."

"That's good," he nodded.

"It is," she agreed calmly, then her expression frowned and she turned toward him a raging gaze of barely restrained fury. Her hair was swirling around as if caught by a strong wind. "Now, would you mind explaining to me exactly why in the name of Hades you have a damned _**Noble Phantasm**_ conceptualized inside you?!"

"... Ah! I forgot about that."

"You for-," she choked out, nearly stumbling at his stupidity. "You forgot? How can you possibly forget about having a Noble Phantasm existing inside you? What is it? Where did you get it? How long have you had it?"

"Uuuh," he moaned, trying to back away from her. "It's Avalon. It was the Catalyst Kiritsugu used to summon the King of Knights as his Servant in the last war. So I guess it's been inside me since the conflict ended."

"The King of Knights? You have…Avalon of all things inside you? Not just an Artifact but actually a portion of the Fae World?" Medea looked at him for a long moment. The non-existent wind stopped abruptly and the Servant slumped into her chair with an exhausted sigh.

"You know," she said after a moment, face buried in her hands. "I should probably forget all about this war and retire somewhere distant, spending my time doing all sorts of experiments on you for the rest of your natural life."

"That… doesn't sound really good for me," Shirou said, eyes still wide.

She glared at him. "Do you realize that you are probably a unique and unprecedented combination of factors that many would kill to get a chance to run experiments on? I don't think there was ever somebody so close to the concept of Sword without actually being one. Not only that, but you have been exposed for years to the Magic of a Sword-related Artifact made by the Fae. As you are, I could probably use you to make…"

"What?" he asked in a whisper, afraid of what she could do with him as a base material. He didn't think she'd act on it or else she wouldn't be telling him, but still…

"Say, Shirou," she said looking at him with a gleam he didn't like one bit.

"Yeah?"

"How do you fare with _**Projection Magecraft**_?"

* * *

><p>Half an hour later Shirou was holding in his hands a copy of Monohoshizao, and his head was pounding painfully. The Projected sword lasted barely a few seconds before shattering into a shower of sparks. It only looked like Monohoshizao and it had nothing else that made that sword the unique piece that it was.<p>

"It's a major success," Medea declared nonetheless.

"You think so? That thing wasn't even remotely close to the real thing. Trust me, I know. It had only it's appearance and base composition but lacked everything else."

"Is it now?" She smiled. "And what if I asked you to Project Avalon?"

"Are you kidding? How do you expect me to Project something like that? Not only it isn't a Sword so it's already out of my range of my Element, but it hardly even classifies as an Artifact. It's more of a concept that anything else."

"You can't say that until you try," she reproached. "What do you have to lose anyway? The circle I've drawn around you prevents excessive build-ups of Prana into your body so you won't even accidentally kill yourself in the process."

"Fine," Shirou huffed, "but don't blame me if something goes wrong."

"Oh just give it a try already," she waved off his concerns. "Who's the legendary Magus between the two of us?"

"And who's the _'unprecedented case of Incarnation' _that even a Magus from the Age of Gods has no experience with?" he retorted.

"Okay, now you're just nitpicking. Do you want to get stronger or not?"

"I really don't understand why you're so convinced that I can pull it off. There is no way that a human being can do something as outlandish as replicating a Noble Phantasm. Ah, fine. What's the point of arguing anyway?"

"Good boy," she smiled condescendingly.

Shirou snorted but closed his eyes and focused. For several long moments he searched his mind for the image of Avalon that he knew so well. When he found it, he half opened his eyes again.

"Trace. On." he said to himself.

The image formed in his mind. He reached for it, trying to grasp every detail and to drag those into the mass of shapeless Prana that he was trying to create. There was something missing though, like it was too big to simply push out in one go. He had to break it down somehow.

_'Judging the concept of Creation'_

_**- I am the bone of my sword. –**_

In front of him the air simmered, twisting in preparation.

_'Analyzing basic structure and components'_

_**- Ir*n is my b*** and ***** is my Hea**-**_

Blood rushed to his head, pounding madly against his temples in an attempt to escape the pressure he was putting on his body. Nonetheless he continued. An outline similar to a grid appeared in front of his eyes but he didn't notice it. His gaze was enraptured and turned inward.

Unseen, beyond the distant horizon, great gears turned in a gargantuan motion that shook the sky. The smell of fire and steel reached his nostrils.

_' Duplicating the composition materials'_

Pain like he had never known surged through his body. Still, the gears turned, whether because he was unable to stop or because he didn't want to, he couldn't tell. By all rights he should have stopped, his twisted but still existing sense of preservation crying out for him to halt the process. However, the distant spinning gears and the thundering hammer hitting steel beyond the horizon sang to him not to, and he could not resist their call.

_'Imitating the skill of its making'_

Blood dribbled down Shirou's nose. His Circuits flared, burned, sizzling under his skin like hot wires. Yet the hammer fell and fell again, relentlessly shaping, tirelessly forging.

_'Sympathizing with the experience of its growth'_

The empty grid started to fill, a translucent figure hovering in mid air. Not quite there, and yet not missing entirely: the partial manifestation of a Concept that wasn't supposed to exist.

Violation, violation, violation. Like with all products of Magecraft, Gaia pushed against it, denying its irregular existence. In this case, it was an alien entity even in its original form in the eyes of the World.

_'Reproducing the accumulated years'_

Gold and Blue. The scent of distant grass under the sweet spring sun filled him entirely. An endless stretch of green opened before him…the promise of a place without strife, without sorrow, without tears.

It wasn't something meant to be seen by the eyes of man. The gears turned, spinning fast. Too fast. Burning. Burning. He was burning from the inside.

_'Excelling every manufacturing process'_

_**-Un****** B***e W***s!-**_

Information overload. Deny! Deny! Deny! Shut down all processes!

Blackness.

* * *

><p>Medea reached out and grabbed Shirou's head before it hit the floor. For a moment the thought of having actually pushed him beyond his boundaries and having killed him filled her with dread.<p>

A quick scan revealed that he had just passed out from the strain, but there was no other damage. Even the blood from his nose was caused by a minor increase in his internal pressure. She sighed in relief and let out a breath she didn't know she holding.

What was she scared about? She knew he was in no condition to harm himself. The circle she had drawn had the explicit purpose of limiting the amount of Prana that could be generated in a certain amount of time, slowing down every process taking place within its boundaries and cutting them off long before they could harm the user. The chances of a mistake on her part were so small that they were not worth being considered.

But the chance wasn't zero, and that was enough reason for her to worry.

Nevermind. He was fine and unhurt. In fact, it seemed he was already waking up if his groaning was any indication.

"Medea?" he called out.

"How are you feeling Shirou?"

"Been better," he said after a moment. "Tell me you've got the plate of the truck that run over me."

She chuckled. "If you're capable of making such bad jokes, then you're better than I thought."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But I was right. It was impossible after all."

"I beg to differ," she said smugly, pointing a finger in _its_ direction.

* * *

><p>Shirou's breath stopped short at the sight.<p>

Resting on the floor, not even half a meter away from him, was Avalon. His eyes could tell that it wasn't a fake. For a moment he felt the need to Trace himself and see if the scabbard was still inside him as well, but he could feel it without having to.

A perfect replica. Not only in its structural meaning but a true mirror of every concept it incarnated. That couldn't be possible. It shouldn't be possible. But it was, and he had done it.

He had somehow made the impossible possible. Something that everyone believed to be impossible he had just made real. It was unrelated to that other thing, but it was enough to make him euphoric.

"Ah!" he choked out, "ah ah ah ah!"

"Shirou? You didn't hit your head did you?"

"No, no," he replied. "I'm just… this is great!"

"Well, frankly it is," she admitted, probably not understanding the depths of his enthusiasm. "This exceeds even my expectations. It's perfectly the same, isn't it?"

"Yes. I can't even understand how that's possible. A replica shouldn't match the original. It should at the very least suffer from some degradation, but that's not the case. And it's lasting. How long has it been? Five minutes already?"

"Almost ten," she replied eyeing the artifact. "This is really better than I had initially estimated. Well Shirou, I guess we found your talent, after all. Perhaps… perhaps we are more suited to each other than I first thought."

"What do you mean?"

"You have a talent for Creation, Shirou," she explained. "A rare talent if I do say so myself."

"Creation?" he tilted his head. "I didn't create anything. I just… carbon copied something that was already there. I…. faked it."

"Yes, yes," she replied with a dismissing wave of her hands. "This definitely counts as a forgery, but even forgery requires talent in Making. This certainly changes everything."

"Everything how?" Shirou asked curiously.

"My Magecraft isn't something I can teach to modern Magi," she began. "It's just too different. They would have to unlearn all they know and start from scratch. You, on the other hand have very little development aside from Reinforcement, Alteration and Projection, so you could probably learn to use it faster than anybody else."

"I sense a 'but' coming," he quipped.

"You're an Incarnation," she continued. "That is both your limitation and your talent. You'll never be proficient in any branch of Magecraft that doesn't involve blades at some point, and to my knowledge there is only one field of Thaumaturgy that has any application with those at all."

"Which is?" he asked.

"Item Creation, or rather… Mystic Code Crafting."

"Mystic Code Crafting? You can't be serious," he scoffed, shaking his head. "It's probably one of the most valued branches of Thaumaturgy nowadays. Along with Bounded Fields it's the only branch where-"

"Where the resulting accumulated knowledge isn't necessarily inheritable and usable only by a blood relative, that's correct. It's an application of Magecraft that doesn't have the same restrictions as all other branches, but that's only the surface in your case. Like we have just demonstrated, you're able to instantaneously grasp and reproduce any Mystery that is presented to you in a shape that bears a strong connection to the concept of _Sword_."

"You can't possibly mean-"

"That we can jumpstart your learning curve and create Mysteries worthy of the Age of Gods so long as they are blades? Yes, that is exactly what I mean to say. You'd better prepare yourself, Shirou," she said reaching out to caress his cheek, causing him to shiver. "I'm a very, very demanding teacher and I don't like to be disappointed at all. If you don't meet my expectations, then you will be punished."

Yep, she had the whole 'Evil Witch' thing down pat. Attractive as hell, mind you, but evil. That was the first time Shirou asked himself if he was perhaps in way over his head. It was one thing to fight a Heroic Spirit but surviving an attractive female one as his self-proclaimed teacher in Magecraft?

Yeah: way over his head.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN.

Well, I suppose I could have made this chapter longer and more eventful but it would have required more time to update and in order to set up the mood for a fight would have taken too long without a break of sort.

This is also the last time in a long while where Medea will be seen crying. Seriously, she's a Heroic Spirit not a crybaby. She might have had her moments but this is it. Now it's about time she goes back to her usual evil self we all have learned to love and hate.

Anyway here's another chapter and just in time for Christmas too. So, ho-ho-ho people, this is my gift for you. Enjoy it. Or not. Either way I'm expecting a shitload of comments as **my** Christmas gift so you'd better damn well **REVIEW**! And don't forget to praise RavingScholar for editing this chapter in no time as well.

Happy holidays!


	19. The coming storm

**Chapter 18 - The coming storm  
><strong>(Published: 01.24.13 - Beta: RavingScholar, Zaralann. Cloud Link Zero )

* * *

><p>The forest at night was covered by a thick layer of darkness. The animals that inhabited it were completely still and silent, proof of their awareness of a predator in their midst.<p>

Far above the ground, perched on a tree's branch much like a hawk, was a boy with his body covered by blood-red markings and with his modesty preserved only by a pair of black boxers. In the darkness it was almost impossible to see that his pupils were extremely dilated, almost to the point that it was impossible to discern the color of his eyes.

In spite of this drugged-like appearance, the boy's senses were more focused than they had ever been. He could perceive just about anything in a radius of several meters and his exposed skin registered every shift in the air, from the slightest breeze to the breath of an animal hiding from him.

Everything was silent and still, save for the constant, slightly accelerated beating of his heart. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, the anticipation of the hunt hammering at his temples and echoing in the empty pit of his stomach.

He could feel his prey, just like his prey could feel him. He could almost smell the scent of its fear, just like he could almost taste the coppery flavor of its blood. Hunger and thirst crept up his throat, twisting in his stomach and demanding satisfaction. He knew better than to comply mindlessly. He couldn't afford the slightest mistake. Between the two of them, his prey had almost all of the advantages. It knew the area better than he did; it had more experience and a more suited body. He had only his favorite weapon, firmly clutched in his hand.

Patiently he waited for his opportunity, ignoring the hunger, ignoring the thirst and ignoring the pain in his muscles. He remained completely still, waiting for his prey to make the first move and declare the chase open once more.

Time slowed down to a grinding halt. Even the wind seemed to cease all movement, burying the forest in an unbearable stillness. The wait started to grate on his nerves but still he didn't move. Hunger lashed at his stomach and thirst clawed at his throat. His back hurt and his naked feet were bleeding from the strain of the hunt.

How much time had passed? Minutes? Hours? Years? Time seemed to lose all meaning, but every second spent in wait was an endless torture. He was almost at the end of his rope, almost ready to give in and jump at his prey. His hand twitched and his muscles coiled, but when he was about to leap his prey broke out in a mad run.

Without thinking and without planning he gave chase, jumping from branch to branch. He didn't mind his hands scraping on the rough surfaces and he ignored the splinters jamming into his palms and feet. All that mattered was getting to his prey before it got away.

Fifty meters divided them. Fifty meters filled with obstacles and with an unpredictable path. He was confident in his abilities and he knew he was good…but not that good. He had to get closer if he wanted to land a killing blow.

He abandoned the trees, landing on the ground in a roll and then sprinting ahead without losing speed.

Forty meters. He accelerated even though the ground was uneven. He scraped his shoulders against the trees more than a few times, but he didn't allow that to hinder him or slow him down.

Thirty meters. His prey was in sight, almost close enough for him to get at. Just a little closer and it would be over.

Twenty-five meters. Finally lady luck smiled on him. His prey stepped into a small clearing, and even if he was still deep into the forest he now had a clean line of sight. He dropped the arrow he was holding in his left hand along with his bow, rapidly catching it with his right. With practiced ease he cocked it and drew the string as much as he could, forcing a groan out of the bow.

When he released his grip the projectile flew, hissing through the air toward its target, carrying along its master's intent to kill. Without fail it pierced through skin and bone, burying itself into the target's skull and brain.

With a strangled yelp the animal fell dead, sliding on the wet ground with the strength of its momentum. Not a moment later the boy was running toward it, fully intending to reach his prize before any of the forest's creatures could lay their claws on it.

Only when he reached it did he allow himself to fall to his knees, breathing raggedly as he tried to calm down his hammering heart. The prey, a relatively big deer, lay motionless on the ground, its lifeless eyes frozen open in death.

Still, even though he was exhausted, hungry, thirsty and bleeding from more than a few small cuts he couldn't help the feeling of primal euphoria that swelled in his chest. He could taste the sweet flavor of victory within his dry mouth, and even if he was far from being done he allowed himself to slump down onto his fallen prey. Staring up at the starless sky, Shirou recalled exactly how he came to stumble into such an unlikely situation.

* * *

><p><strong>Two days earlier<strong>

"I'm not sure I understand what this is all about," Shirou complained as he sat on a stool into his Workshop. He was almost completely naked save for the towel around his waist. In spite of his controlled and even tone, the severe blush on his face might have given away the depths of his embarrassment. Medea didn't seem fazed by his discomfort… or rather she seemed to be quite amused if the quirk of her lips was any indication.

"I'm not surprised that Magecraft has fallen so far since my time if you have to ask me something so simple," Medea said as she continued to draw a complex series of circles on his chest. "Then again, the information provided by the Grail should have been enough of a hint. To make it simple, Shirou, actions have power beyond the act itself."

"I'm not following," he replied, trying to pay no attention to the slender finger running on his skin.

"It's really quite simple. What is Magecraft in your own words?"

"Magecraft? Let's see," he said, licking annoyingly dry lips. "Magecraft is the discipline that permits the workings of the Inner World to shape the Outer World."

"A bit simplistic as an explanation but fundamentally correct," Medea agreed. "Magecraft is not unlike as system of levers. By turning oneself into a gear of such system, with a minimal application of energy a Magus can create a greater effect in the Outer World. Of course it's not a process without risks, as a minor miscalculation can break the Magus to pieces."

"To be a Magus is to walk with death," Shirou supplied the well-known mantra of every practitioner of Magecraft.

"Indeed. However that's beside the point now. What matters is that there is a direct connection between the Outer and the Inner world that Magi use to perform their craft. That means that if an action performed in the Inner World has an effect on the Outer, then the opposite also holds true."

"You mean that is possible to influence the Inner World just by… uh… just by living?"

"Essentially, yes. Of course it takes a monumental effort or a series of actions piled up together to get even the slightest change, unless they aren't purposely focused into a precise direction."

"Focused?"

"Yes. Have you ever heard it said that a meal cooked with love tastes much better to the person who eats it? As absurd as it sounds there's actually a smidgen of truth in there. Actions, intents, thoughts. They all have a small amount of power, pushing at the gears of the Inner World in an almost imperceptible manner every minute of every day. On a more relevant note: when a specific weapon is repeatedly used to perform a certain act it can turn into a cursed or a blessed blade, depending on the nature of the deed."

"Gilford's scalpel," Shirou mumbled.

"Yes, my former Master's favorite tool could definitely have gained a darker spiritual component had you not disposed of it so thoroughly, or if he had been more sadistic when dealing with his test subjects."

"More sadistic than that?"

"Of course. For all his arrogance and his lack of care for human life, Vincent wasn't really a sadist. His victims were at least partially sedated when he… operated on them, while the resulting chimeras really didn't have anything of their human counterparts' mind. Make no mistake, this was not due to Vincent's desire to spare them unnecessary suffering. Just a way to prevent them from trashing around as he worked on them."

"I would rather not think about that if I could. I'm just glad that he's not going to hurt anyone anymore."

"So am I," she agreed, "but we are digressing. The point is that actions, intents and thoughts have an influence in the Inner World, very small compared to the opposite act and usually diluted because a person's actions aren't constantly focused to a determined goal. That can be, of course, corrected by taking the necessary steps."

"But… wouldn't it be simpler to affect the Inner World by performing Magecraft? I mean...why go through all the hassle of doing enormous things instead of using a spell to obtain the same result? Ouch! Are you going to hit me on the head every time I ask a question?"

"Only when it's a stupid question," Medea explained, returning to her task. "Think about it, Shirou. What is Magecraft's most blatant flaw?"

"Eeeh…," he mumbled in confusion.

"I'm going to hit you now," she threatened.

"Wait! I know! It's that a spell has to be kept powered because Gaia is constantly countering its effects."

"Precisely. That's because in the eyes of Gaia, Magecraft is essentially cheating: a violation of its rules. People aren't supposed to meddle with the world's inner workings. We should interact with the world through our actions and not through Magecraft. Only like that you can make something truly long-lasting."

"So… there's nothing worthwhile to be gained without personal efforts and sacrifices?" he smiled. "I like that."

"Precisely. Even I didn't become a Heroic Spirit because I'm a great Magus or because I cast a spell to make myself like this. I transcended mortality because my life echoed so powerfully within the Inner World that the system known as _Throne of Heroes_ judged me worthy of joining its ranks."

"I understand. So, how exactly are we going to do this?"

"To create a Mystic Code whose properties aren't just in its enchantments but with a deeper spiritual power, we need a suitable base material. Considering that we are talking about your Codes, then it would be better if said materials had an origin strongly tied with you."

"Tied with me? I see. This is the part where the action is focused in a specific direction."

"Well, there is still hope for you yet," Medea said, ignoring the following indignant cry of protest from her pupil. "You will hunt the animal we need and you will kill it. From its corpse we'll gather the raw materials we need to get started and from that we will shape a Mystic Code that will have the very concept of _Emiya Shirou_ grafted within, from the death of its source, to the origin of the base material. This way the tools you will create from them will work much better for you than anybody else, even to the point that they will even require you less Prana to activate any Mystery associated with them. They will become the very manifestation of your intent as an abstract concept into the reality of the Outer World."

"That… actually sounds rather cool," he pondered. "So, do I just have to go out there and kill an animal big enough?"

"Sadly, no."

"Why not?" he sighed. Things were never straightforward or simple, were they?

"Because it wouldn't be nearly difficult enough for you to make a worthwhile echo in the Inner World. There are no longer Phantasmal Beasts in this era, so we cannot hunt a creature with an existence already deeply engraved within the World. Normal animals by themselves aren't a very good source of materials and they are something that most humans could kill with a minimal application of effort and ingenuity anyway. We'll have to purposely make your task a bit more difficult in order to have a greater meaning in the big scheme of things. Oh, and by a bit I mean a lot."

"Figures," he grumbled under his breath. "Just how difficult are we talking about here?"

Medea's response was a creepy smile that would have made a shark run away whimpering.

Being a Hero sure was tough!

* * *

><p>Difficult for Medea meant that, on top of giving his blood to write the circles on his body, Shirou had to spend two days in mediation inside the forest with no food and just enough water to be functional when it came the moment of the hunt.<p>

The pattern drawn on his body served to make him more aware of the spiritual influences that dwelled far from human settlements, which in turn made such spiritual influences more aware of him. Normally that wouldn't have been a problem, considering that the modern era was at an all time low when it came to spontaneous spiritual entities. However Fuyuki, with its exceedingly strong leylines, was an exception to that rule.

The two days he spent in the forest had been a struggle to maintain his own sense of self, a struggle that became increasingly difficult as the primal need to feed began to eat away at his concentration. He wasn't at risk of being possessed, not entirely at least, but his new receptiveness to external influences made it much more difficult to remain in control during the hunt.

The purpose of this wasn't just to make Shirou's task more difficult, but it was another step to enforce the result of his actions into the Inner World by having as witnesses entities that were naturally much closer to it than humans could ever possibly be. Granted, the primal spirits that inhabited the forest were more of a manifestation of its inhabitant's life force than a true self-aware entity. Nevertheless, they served their purpose well enough.

With no little effort he dragged the dead deer along with a handful of dirt from its dying place all the way to the clearing where he had passed the past two days. Medea wasn't there as the presence of such a high ranked entity would have chased away just about everything else.

He didn't need her to be present, anyway. She had been very thorough with her lecture, and Shirou remembered every detail with extreme clarity, the threats of prolonged pains by her hands should he screw up not affecting his memory in the slightest. Not at all.

Once he reached his destination he left the carcass a few feet away from a circle he had drawn himself and went to fetch the tools he needed for this part of the task: an old hunting knife and an equally old wooden bowl.

Both items came from an antique shop. The knife had been used for a lifetime by a hunter, obviously, and contained all the knowledge Shirou needed to peel the skin off his prey and render every part of its body for later use. The wooden bowl instead was... just a normal wooded bowl.

He'd gotten it cheap with the knife and it seemed like a good idea to have an equally old item to perform the ritual. Hey, if he had to go all _'Conan the Barbarian',_ then he might as well get the complete set.

Shaking his head free of strange thoughts, Shirou returned to the task at hand. Straddling the still warm carcass, he dived into the memories engraved within the blade and let his hands to the job with the expertise of accumulated years. Four minutes later he was holding in his blood stained hands the heart of his prey.

His stomach lurched, divided between hunger and disgust, but with the inherent control of a Magus and of a person who had walked amidst an ocean of corpses he held it in check. Slowly, he placed it into the wooden bowl, putting the killing arrow on top of it.

Slowly he rose to his feet and placed the bowl in the center of the circle, stepping carefully out immediately afterward. Once outside he sat on his heels and started enchanting.

"In accordance with the old ways, I invite you, Spirits of the Trees, to bear witness to this deed."

Slowly, from the trees surrounding the clearing a fine mist started to form. Shirou could almost make shapes out of it, but preferred not to.

"In accordance with the old ways, I invite you, Spirits of the Hunt, to bear witness to this death."

The mist intensified and darkened, getting almost a green tinge. Shirou didn't shiver. Not at all.

"If this sacrifice pleases you, accept my offer and bestow upon this flesh your marks, your curses and your blessings."

The mist _slithered_ out of the woods in thin tendrils, all too reminiscent of snakes. It took Shirou a great amount of self-control not to wince when a few of those pooled around him, staring contemplatively (or perhaps hungrily) at him before finally moving inside the circle. Upon contact with those tendrils the wooden bowl ignited in a bluish flame that consumed flesh, blood, wood and metal alike. Not even ashes remained when they finished their_meal_.

Slowly the tendrils retreated from the circle and gathered around the carcass, entering the dead body from every available hole and pooling in greater measure in the cavity that once hosted the animal's heart. Again the flame burned, but the carcass wasn't consumed as the sacrificial bowl was. For well over an hour the flame continued burning, with Shirou sitting close by. The eerie fire didn't provide any warmth; instead, it actually made the clearing feel even colder than it already was.

Only when the sun started peeking over the horizon did the tendrils retire back into the shadow of the woods, slithering past Shirou and caressing his skin in the process. They didn't hurt him, but Shirou had the distinct impression they were asking for more. Perhaps he'd have to appease them again at a later time. It was always a good idea to be on the good side of transcendental entities, after all.

It took him two hours to get cleaned, dressed and to drag the carcass all the way to the road where he had parked the black van. Shirou never thought that he would one day be happy with being in possession of a stolen vehicle, but hey, life's funny like that.

He then drove all the way back to his house while avoiding major streets and unloaded his prize into the hands of a very satisfied Medea. It should have been over right then, but being a Monday morning he still had to go to school.

Being a Hero sure was tough!

* * *

><p>Cheung Jun hissed curses in his native tongue that are better off not repeated. As instructed he was observing the Emiya boy when he left his house, following him all the way to the forest well outside the city. He had been cautious and kept his distance, trying to figure out what sort of Magecraft he was capable of. Instead, the boy made no use of any spell, simply drawing a circle that had no meaning for the Chinese Magus and that the boy made no use of.<p>

For two days he watched him doing absolutely nothing but meditate. He was almost tempted to try his luck and kill him then, as secretly instructed by the elder Archibald, but when he had almost made up his mind the boy took his bow and arrows and left. It was useless to track him as he moved around the trees. He moved too fast for him to follow without being noticed. So he patiently waited for him to return a few hours later and perform an obscure ritual.

In hindsight, he should have expected something strange and perhaps he should have kept himself more distant, but when the shit started to hit the fan it was too late to regret his lack of foresight.

Whatever it was that the kid did, it awakened something primal within the forest, something that didn't like him being there. He was an intruder in a ritual that allowed only for the hunter and the prey to be present, and he was neither. In fact, he was sure that if he stayed just a moment longer, then he would definitely have become the latter.

Instead, he managed to escape the bloodthirsty snake-thing with a few superficial wounds and a much more wounded pride. He made a mental note to observe from a greater distance, if only to avoid being caught in whatever that the boy did. As a Magus and a mercenary he was more than ready to lose his life, but to do so by being caught in the aftereffects of a Magecraft not directed at him was simply insulting.

At least he got something out of it. The boy had a grasp of shamanic rituals the likes of which he had never seen. It definitely wasn't the repertoire of the Magus Killer, but then again the boy wasn't related by blood so he couldn't have inherited Emiya Kiritsugu's branch of Magecraft. It was closer to a type of Formalcraft that existed within the branch of Spiritual Evocation, but Jun didn't perceive any use of Prana so there had to be a different component to it.

It was probably not related to his fighting skills, but if the kid was a summoner of sorts then he represented a threat well beyond their initial estimation. Fortunately, both he and his wife had the perfect tools the deal with such things.

* * *

><p><strong><span>The next day<span>**

"NHUOOOOH?!"

Shirou's shocked shout echoed in the vast expanse of his Workshop.

Vast expanse? In his Workshop? What the hell? His Workshop was (used to be) a single room of a few square meters. Just enough to put a couple of desks and a damn shelf, but now it was as wide as the entire courtyard above.

"Do you like it?" Medea asked smiling as she joined him from upstairs.

"W-w-what is this?"

"Our workshop," she replied matter-of-factly. "What does it look like?"

"But-but-but..."

"Certainly you didn't expect me to do anything worthwhile in such a cramped little space, did you? Of course I had to enlarge my workspace a little more. Don't worry, I used Magecraft to shape it but it doesn't rely on Prana to stay up. It won't crumble on your head if something goes wrong."

"_My_ head?" he asked.

"I can shift into spirit form," she pointed out smoothly, "so it's not like I would get hurt by something as mundane as a collapsing building."

"Well, that's reassuring," he said in mock relief.

"It certainly is," Medea agreed with a smile, perhaps missing but probably ignoring Shirou's sarcasm.

"Anyway, what do you plan to do with all this space now? I get that my Workshop was a bit too cramped for the two of us but isn't this going a bit overboard?"

"Your idiocy never ceases to amaze, Shirou," she answered flatly. "Aren't we supposed to craft Mystic Codes from scratch?"

"And it takes all of this space to do it?" he frowned.

"Of course. We have to tan the skin of animals and work the leather, melt and forge metals, as well as a number of other things."

"Now wait just a moment," he said holding up a hand. "All of those things require a bunch of serious equipment to be done. Do you intend to make them with Magecraft?"

"How silly. Of course not," she laughed, waving him off. "I need stable and Prana inert tools to craft proper Mystic Codes. Things made with Magecraft tend to erode faster and they would interfere with any enchantment I'm going to use on top of that."

"Where will you get them, then?" he asked, feeling a sense of dread swell inside his chest.

"Well… either we are going to steal them or we are going to buy them."

"…" Shirou replied.

"…" Medea responded. Then her mouth quirked up in that evil-creepy smile of hers and the loud smack of Shirou's hand meeting his face echoed in the soon-to-be-filled Workshop.

Being a Hero sure was tough!

… And expensive, too.

* * *

><p><strong>Later – After school<strong>

Shirou had the strangest impression. Maybe he was just being paranoid because Medea's behavior was making him think twice about everything he did or said, not so much because he didn't trust her but because every time they discussed something he came out feeling more and more stupid.

Not that he wanted her to change how she acted around him. Her caustic self was her honest self, after all, and even to someone as oblivious as Shirou it was clear that there was no ill-will behind it. Even her decision to enlarge the basement and the subsequent expense for crafting equipment didn't bother him, though he behaved like he did to let her have some fun.

It wasn't worse than what Taiga did at times, anyway.

Regardless, he did tend to keep his guard up around her, if only to avoid falling entirely for one of her constant surprises and coming out of their conversations feeling like an idiot for not seeing this or that coming. He had the impression that she wanted to keep him on his toes all the time, so that he could be more aware of… well, just about everything.

On that note he had the distinct impression that he was being constantly observed. While he was at home he could chalk it up to Medea, who he often found looking at him with a strange contemplative look. At school he even spotted Tohsaka staring at him from time to time, but outside of those locations he couldn't explain the feeling of being stalked.

He tried to lure out eventual stalkers by suddenly changing direction on his way home or by taking emptier roads were it was impossible to mix in the crowd. He spotted no one, but the feeling didn't subside either. Thinking about it, he had felt a similar sensation in the forest where he performed the ritual, but back then he was calling upon invisible entities so it was kind of expected.

… Wait a moment. Could it be that something had followed all the way from there? Maybe he should look for an exorcist or something. Perhaps Medea could help. Hopefully.

* * *

><p>"The kid has sharp instincts," Jin said from the top of the roof where she was standing well out of sight.<p>

"Definitely," Jun agreed. "I never once managed to slip close enough to deliver a killing blow without giving away my presence. At this rate we can forget taking him out from a distance. We'll have to charge in directly."

"Lord El-Melloi won't be pleased. I got the feeling he preferred to make a deal with the boy."

"He isn't our employer," Jun pointed out with a shrug. "If he decides to interfere with our new assignment, then we'll have to disable him."

"If that's what it takes," his wife agreed. "What about the woman that lives with the kid?"

"A Magus, no doubt. The boy's current teacher if her coming and going from his Workshop is any indication. If she's given the time to enchant a spell, then she's likely to be more of a threat than he is."

"We still don't know a thing about their Magecraft," Jin pointed out.

"The boy's is certainly combat oriented, but if we take out the woman first the two of us should be able to deal with whatever he could throw at us."

"Two against one in both cases, but that still leaves us exposed to an attack from behind.

"Not if we play our cards right," he explained. "We take the woman while the boy's away and then we deal with him separately

"Where and when?" she asked.

"Let us take a few more days to observe them. We can never know what could transpire without examining their everyday routine. As for the location… we'll strike where they'd expect it less, of course. Where their guard is more likely to be lessened."

"Where they are at their strongest, then."

"Indeed," he nodded, grinning in anticipation. "We'll strike the Emiya household directly."

* * *

><p><strong>Two days later<strong>

Medea sighed. The materials Shirou had ordered to build their new Workshop had arrived. She had to admit that he didn't hold back with the expenses, even though she dropped the news on him quite suddenly and even if he wasn't particularly well off financially.

It's not like she had a reason to complain, it was just that… well, modern building materials were a bit dull.

They sure looked nice, but they could never sustain the creation of a serious Mystic Code or, Gods forbids, an Artificial Phantasm. Not that she had even the remotest possibility of making one of the latter. In this era there just weren't the components or the opportunities for a sacrificial effort necessary to make even a low ranked one.

It put a damper on her, having to pay attention not to break her tools as he worked on something, but she would have to make do. After all, neither she nor Shirou wanted to expose themselves to the Magi community at large.

"Something on your mind?" the Magus in question asked, joining her in the examination of the recently delivered materials.

"Am I being that obvious?" she asked in return.

"You never made an effort to hide your disappointment," he explained, with a chuckle "but you aren't one to whine about small things. Let me guess: this stuff isn't to your liking."

"There's nothing wrong with them per se. It's just that if I use the spiritually influenced metals of my former Master to make or strengthen the forging tools, then we're going to lack what we need to make the actual Mystic Codes. On the other hand if we use those to forge the Codes, then we'll have to work with subpart tools. Either way, this is going to end with a half-assed result."

"That's certainly annoying after having gone through all this trouble," he agreed.

"I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely. "It seems like I made you waste a lot of time and resources for nothing."

Her apologetic tone unnerved him. In the few days after she had dropped all pretenses (or rather after he forced her to), Medea had been nothing but a confident and self assured woman, if a bit selfish. She didn't bother with asking permission when she wanted or needed something, though she never overstepped the boundaries of basic politeness. To see her apologize sincerely for something she couldn't help was bothering him also because it wasn't like she had actually forced him to buy all of those things.

"It's fine," he told her. "It's not a complete waste anyway. Even if they aren't going to be as good as they could, I'm sure they are still going to be great. It's not like there is another legendary Magus around these days, isn't it?"

"I suppose not," she replied with a smile, but then frowned again and crossed her arms over her chest. "Still, underperforming is annoying. If I'm expecting nothing but the best from my student I certainly can't do any less myself."

"Is this the fabled pride of a Heroic Spirit talking?"

"Something like that," she admitted. "If only I could get my hands on a few things…"

"Maybe… there is a way. What do you need exactly?"

* * *

><p><strong>Half an hour later<strong>

"I was under the impression that you were against revealing yourself to the Magi society, and I agreed with your decision," Medea said as she sipped some tea in the living room, sitting at the opposite side of Shirou at the table. The redhead Magus was holding what seemed to be a small and old address book. "What changed?"

"Nothing, really. I still don't intend to let the Clock Tower know about me yet, but I was going over dad's stuff on the war a few days ago when I accidentally stumbled on a list of his contacts. Most of them are Magi of course, the kind of people I could have used to further my education if I could have afforded the risk, but there were also a number of people who dabble in the spiritual without being Magi. I had no use for them until now but…"

"You now think they could provide us what we need?"

"It's worth a try. I've checked a few names already, but most of these people are either dead or no longer reachable at the numbers I have and I crossed those I know that can't or won't help us, like weapon dealers for instance. I narrowed the list to just one name."

She looked down at the black address book in his hands and read the name he was pointing at, written upside down from her point of view.

"Makihisa… Tohno?"

* * *

><p>Ryutaro Dojima was at an impasse. His primary target was well within his reach.<p>

The number of coincidences, connections and odd events surrounding the life of Emiya Shirou were all the clues he needed to figure out that he was Archer. Certainly they would never be considered proof by any judge, but once you had all those hints it wasn't hard to put the picture together.

Yet, for all of this clarity there were far too many things he couldn't explain or account for, the latest being his loss of memory. When he realized that something was amiss he decided to keep his distance for a while, trying to see if he was being followed or kept under control in any manner. Archer's words about a powerful organization overseeing the strange happenings in Fuyuki had struck a chord in him.

As a dedicated police officer he was more than ready to risk his life, but if what Archer said was true the danger wasn't limited to himself but would reach even his family…his daughter. He might have not been the most exemplar father around and he knew it, but he loved his Nanako very much, even if he didn't know how to show it to her.

For her sake he was willing to drop the investigation completely, but if Archer was correct and this mysterious organization of his wasn't behind all those deaths but acted to contain them and keep them secret, then the risk of something happening to Nanako was still present.

Would leaving town suffice or were there other places like Fuyuki, where strange things happened and no one seemed to notice? Without knowing what was going on, the risk was just too high. He couldn't afford to close his eyes to the truth and walk away hoping things would be fine. It wasn't in his character and he couldn't allow some misguided fear to compromise Nanako's future. Besides, if this organization had already him tagged there was no telling what they might do if he suddenly left on his own without a particular reason.

Convincing himself that nothing had happened didn't work at all; the paranoia was eating him from the inside out. He was getting jumpy to the point that even being around Adachi was becoming unnerving… well more than it already was, at any rate.

Unable to stand still and incapable of retreating, Ryutaro Dojima was left with no other option but to charge forward. If Emiya was Archer and if it were true that he didn't endorse this organization's agenda, then perhaps he would provide him the answers he sought to protect his family and himself.

At least he hoped so.

* * *

><p><strong>Misaki city<strong>

A phone rang in the old and elegant mansion. The barely audible sound of light feet approached the communication device and a slender hand reached for the receiver.

"Hello? This is the Tohno family estate. I'm Hisui. Who's speaking?"

* * *

><p><strong>Two weeks later<strong>

Shirou was rather surprised at his recent luck. After cross-referencing the name Tohno Makihisa with the address he found in Kiritsugu's address book, he found out that the man was actually the extremely wealthy businessman and head of the Tohno family.

It's not like it was strange that extremely wealthy men dabbled in the mystical, especially not in Japan where many such people were the heads of extremely old families with ancient roots. That reassured Shirou that this contact was a valid one and that Tohno could probably get him the things he needed. The problem was getting an appointment with the man or with someone close enough to him to consider his request.

He was quite surprised when he discovered that the phone number was actually that of the Tohno estate and not some random office. He was even more surprised when Tohno's secretary, Hisui-san, after leaving him waiting at the phone for a few minutes, actually gave him an appointment with her employer in a couple of weeks.

Either the man was more approachable than Shirou originally thought, or Kiritsugu had an interesting working relationship with him. Interesting enough that just dropping the name Emiya sufficed to get an appointment with one of Japan's wealthiest men.

With that problem out of the way, Shirou decided to pull out all the stops and present himself as his best. Cracking open more of his savings he went into town and bought the finest black Armani suit he could find, Kiritsugu style.

Shirou didn't particularly like dressing like that but it was a business meeting he was about to attend so a certain appearance was required. He luckily managed to dodge Taiga, throwing the excuse of visiting a friend – _not a girlfriend, I said _- in Misaki. It was a trip he could make in a few hours thanks to Japan's state of the art train line.

A bit more difficult was to sneak out was a suitcase full of money. He didn't know how much it would cost him to get the special materials Medea needed, but it was better be ready to give a conspicuous sum upfront. Kiritsugu might have a functional working relationship with Tohno, but Shirou wasn't him.

So, with everything properly set he rode the train all the way to Misaki as soon as the school day ended, changed into his suit in a clean public bathroom and then walked the rest of the way to the Tohno mansion.

Misaki was a rather nice city from what he could see. It wasn't as modern as Fuyuki and yet at the same time it didn't have the same feeling of Japanese tradition that some parts of Fuyuki had. It could have essentially been a city from a western country as far as architecture went.

However, to Shirou the difference was something else. Even though Fuyuki had an already powerful leyline, Misaki city was situated on an even stronger one. For someone like Shirou, who was extremely attuned to spiritual influences, every breath was heavier than normal. almost making him feel like he was breathing water instead of air and it gave him a discomforting feeling, though it was nothing he couldn't get used to in a matter of hours.

The road leading to the Tohno estate was uphill, and it took him a few minutes on foot to reach the top, where the ancient looking mansion stood, overlooking the city. Through the gates he could see the mansion in the distance, well beyond the huge garden (or was it a park) that stretched from the walls.

Taking a deep breath he moved his hand to the doorbell and pressed the button.

* * *

><p>Tohno Makihisa was in his study, standing in front of the window that overlooked the property behind his mansion. He was in a relatively good mood, even if he had been experiencing an odd feeling of dread that had nothing to do with his… unusual heritage.<p>

He wasn't all that surprised, all things considered. His actions had gained him a certain amount of hatred, even and especially from his own house. Despite what _they_ thought, he wasn't oblivious to the movements inside his mansion. There was always someone scheming, someone plotting behind his back. It was normal for someone in his position and only by being far more cunning and far more ruthless than his competitors was he still the head of the Tohno family. He was under no delusion, however, that his final days were getting closer. Recently his blood had been acting up more than usual and even his… sacrificial lamb could only do so much to restrain it.

Yet, he didn't fear his passing. No, he actually welcomed it to a degree. For the few good things he had put into the world he had taken away many, many more. If he had to go before he could become a monster even worse than he already was, then he would be satisfied.

Still, that didn't mean he would go down easily. His blood wouldn't allow him to die without stirring chaos and madness a little more, and today's appointment was something that _both_sides were looking forward to, even if just for the kick of it.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when someone knocked on the door.

"Makihisa-sama," his younger maid, Hisui, called out. "Emiya-san has arrived."

"Let him in."

* * *

><p>As he waited inside the entrance hall, Shirou took his time to examine the mansion. The Victorian-style building certainly reflected the wealth of its owners, as if the number of maids he saw passing by wasn't enough. There was no need to reinforce his hearing to understand that quite a number of people lived in the Tohno household. It was a fairly lively place, but Shirou couldn't shrug off a certain feeling of dread.<p>

There was something wrong about this place, something that made him want to watch his back all the time. He couldn't quite pinpoint what the source was and he had no plans to use his Tracing to figure out where it came from. Even though he doubted any of those present could detect the use of Magecraft, doing such a thing was as impolite as sneaking around and searching through other people's stuff.

Instead he simply patiently waited for the maid to return. He didn't have to wait long.

"Emiya-san, this way please."

He followed the young maid upstairs and through a number of corridors. If one though that the Emiya's household was big, then this place could be considered gigantic. Finally, they reached the door to Tohno's private study and the maid showed him inside.

Shirou slowly entered the room and his gaze immediately met his host's. Tohno Makihisa had piercing grey eyes, framed on a visage of dry features and slightly curly black air. He had an air of refinement, but also a tinge of the haunted that Shirou couldn't quite explain. It was honestly unsettling, almost like being in the presence of a big predator that contemplated his soon-to-be morsel with a measure of amusement, and it was focused entirely on his guest.

Shirou held back the impulse to shiver and stared at his host with a stony gaze of his own. After a second, Makihisa's lips quirked slightly upward in what appeared to be the ghost of a smile but it was so faint that he could be mistaken.

"Emiya-san, welcome. Please have a seat," the older man gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

"Thank you, Tohno-san," Shirou replied politely as she sat, his host doing the same as he did.

"I must admit that I was surprised to receive your call. I wasn't aware that Emiya Kiritsugu had a son of your age, and you don't really resemble your father."

"I'm adopted," Shirou clarified.

"Yes, yes. I'm aware of that," than man waved off. "I had your background checked after your call. It's not every day that the previously unknown son of a dead man asks for a meeting. Especially not a man such as your father was. No, what I was referring to was your eyes."

"Why would that be?" the redhead asked.

"I met your father just a couple of times in the past," the man recalled, "strictly for business reasons. Of course, before accepting to meet him in person I had looked into his background as well. Quite the chilly resume your father had to his name, but even knowing some of his most gruesome exploits didn't really give me an appropriate idea of who he was," he chuckled as he seemingly slipped further down in reminiscence. "I'll never forget his eyes: cold, measuring, calculating. It was as if every breath he drew was a carefully contemplated move and he eyed me the entire time as if he was trying to figure out the best way to kill me if he had to. One of the most interesting men I ever had the chance to meet. You, on the other hand, look nothing like that. Your eyes are far too warm for one raised by the Magus Killer. Why is that?"

A moment of silence fell between them, mostly due to Shirou's surprise of his host's blunt, if mostly accurate description of his father.

"The Magus Killer was a monster like few others," Shirou said contemplatively. "I can't begin to count the number of people he murdered in cold blood, nor I will attempt to. I'm glad that he's dead."

"Oh?" Makihisa quirked an eyebrow, leaning forward.

"However, the Magus Killer had no part in raising me. He died years before Emiya Kiritsugu finally passed away."

"… I see," the head of the Tohno family said after a moment, again with a barely visible smile gracing his lips. "I suppose that there is more to one person than meets the eye. A cold blooded monster can be a loving father and a loving father can be a cold blooded monster. Thank you for satisfying my curiosity, Emiya-san. Onto business, then: I understand that you were looking for certain particular goods. Do you have a list?"

"Of course," Shirou replied, fishing a piece of folded paper from one of his pockets and offering his to Tohno.

As the dark haired man studied the list with an attentive eye, the maid who had received Shirou entered with a tray and served tea for both before returning from whence she came.

"Hmm." Tohno mused. "I should be able to obtain most of these things in a few days, a week at the latest. The price, however, would be quite steep."

Without a word Shirou opened the suitcase in his lap and showed its contents, drawing an affirmative nod from his host.

"That should cover it," Tohno confirmed the unspoken question. "I should be able to thrown in some extras as well for that amount. Would that be all?"

"Yes, thank you, Tohno-san."

"It was my pleasure," the older man replied, standing up and shaking Shirou's hand for the first time. Half the money changed hands as upfront payment, swiftly secured by the same maid as before. She seemed to know exactly when she was needed without being told anything.

As he was about to leave, Tohno called him back once more.

"Emiya-san, in the off chance that I'm indisposed or unable to meet you for any reason in a week's time, then I shall leave instructions with my daughter to complete our transaction. Akiha is going to be my heir when my time comes, so she's aware of most of my businesses. In my absence, you can refer to her as you would with me."

"Thank you very much, Tohno-san. Farewell."

"Farewell, Emiya-san."

Without other words Shirou was led out of the mansion. From there he made his way back to the station, and shortly after he boarded the train back home.

* * *

><p><strong>Fuyuki city – The next day<strong>

"So, no progress whatsoever, huh?" Waver mused.

"None," Jun agreed. "The boy has been remarkably prudent all the time, and has shown decent instincts. He made no use of standard Magecraft that we could use to discern or predict his mysteries. The ritual in the forest had a spiritual component and elements of Formalcraft, but I couldn't stay around to see what the results were."

"What about the woman living with him?"

"I kept an eye on her almost all the time," Jin provided. "She spends most of the day in what we assume to be the boy's Workshop, so she's almost certainly a Magus as well. The difference in apparent age would suggest that she's probably the boy's mentor or some such."

"Odd. Mentor or not, a Magus would hardly allow another practitioner into their Workshop. Emiya is probably quite unorthodox as a Magus, but to open his sancta sanctorum to another would imply an immense degree of trust."

"They do seem to get along quite well," the woman observed, "though the Boundary Field prevented me from eavesdropping on their conversations.

"A dampening effect?" Waver asked

"Yes. I took my time to study it in detail. Its functions seem to be limited to detecting intruders and to preventing Prana and sounds from leaving the perimeter. It's well made but weak enough that even by entering one wouldn't detect it unless actively searching for it."

"A person who treasures his privacy. I don't think he would be pleased to see a group of Magi on his doorsteps."

"Have you decided on a course of action, sir?" Jun asked.

"Well, considering what we know about his activities in the mundane society, we can rule out that he would respond aggressively to our presence. I would rather not improvise a visit at his place, though. It would be better to approach him on neutral grounds, possibly a public space and organize a meeting from there."

"Is that wise, sir? As it stands we have the element of surprise on our side. Wouldn't it be better to just ambush him and get what we want?"

"That would be wise if we had any idea what his mysteries are. As you pointed, out he's too aware to just ambush and we cannot afford a confrontation of Magecraft that could give away our presence to the resident Second Owner. We have to keep the Clock Tower's eyes away from this, otherwise succeeding in retrieving the Crest would only mean losing it further down the road. We cannot afford to cause a commotion."

"Understood, sir."

* * *

><p>"As expected," Jun said after leaving the hotel room with his wife.<p>

"Yes. Lord El-Melloi's analysis is correct, but we don't have the luxury of choice."

"We must proceed without his support, then."

"When?"

"Tomorrow. After the boy leaves for work we strike his house and Workshop, eliminate his ally and secure the Crest."

"And after that…"

"… we'll put a definite end to the name of Emiya."

* * *

><p><strong>The next morning<strong>

"Medea, did you notice something strange lately?" Shirou asked casually during breakfast

"Strange how?"

"I had the impression of being observed all the time when I was in public for the past two weeks. I checked, but I didn't find a single trace of anyone around."

"You think you've been followed?" she asked, brows furrowed.

"Yeah. I thought that maybe it was just my imagination, but do you think that something could have followed me out of the forest? A spirit of some kind?"

"It's unlikely," she explained. "I would have detected a spiritual presence nearby even through the wards."

"Even if you have just a fraction of your standard strength?"

"All the more so. I'm far more susceptible to other spiritual influences if they are not overwhelmed by my own."

"What if it's another Servant?"

"Absolutely not. I can feel the fluctuations in the leyline's power through my link with the nexus. No other Servant has been summoned yet aside from me and another. With my current power level even a fellow Heroic Spirit would have a hard time tracking me, especially since I remain under your dampening Boundary Field most of the time. Only the Assassin Class could escape my notice at a distance where another Servant could detect me in my current condition, but if that was the case you certainly wouldn't notice it either."

"Uh-huh. What do you think it could be then?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea. Given a bit of time I could add my own defenses to yours Wards without disrupting them, but that would likely tip off any half-decent Magus to the use of Magecraft in the vicinity. I would advise against doing so unless you think you're ready to advertise your presence in town."

"I would prefer not to. Secrecy is currently our best advantage."

"I concur. Are you sure it isn't just your mind playing tricks? If it has already been over two weeks, don't you think that anyone with ill intentions would have struck by now?"

"Maybe I'm being just a little bit paranoid," he agreed. "The whole thing with Tohsaka and Yukiko's kidnapping already had me on edge and the news of the Grail War didn't help me relax either."

"You should probably get more rest," she nodded. "When the materials arrive we'll seriously start your lessons and you'll have very little time for yourself. You would do better to relax while you can."

"I guess so. But I would rather keep my guard up until I figure out for sure why I'm feeling like this. You should keep your eyes open as well."

"Watching your back is always a wise policy. I will set up a few dormant low-level countermeasures within the grounds while you're out. Just in case."

"Thanks. That's a relief."

"Think nothing of it. I'm only doing it for my sake after all."

"That's why is a relief."

"… Idiot."

* * *

><p>Rin left for school as usual that morning, but in a better mood than she had been in the past month. The night of the summoning was a mere couple of days away and everything was as ready as it could be. The circle was drawn and triple checked, she had stored several weeks' worth of Prana into a spare jewel and her physical and mental condition was top notch.<p>

She was still mildly worried about Caster and her new Master, but after so much time she figured that the new duo had probably decided not to harass her for the time being, though she couldn't begin to figure out why. Certainly Guilford's reasons for his roundabout way to get at her were sound, but now that the presence of a Servant in Fuyuki had been exposed there was not much reason to leave her alone. She was a mostly defenseless prime target.

She figured that perhaps they decided to let her summon her Servant since killing her before she did so would have meant that another unknown Master would have been chosen. She kept her guard up for eventual observers, but beside that police guy Adachi she was never once followed by anybody else. Certainly there was no reason to keep an eye on her all the time, but the lack of any form of suspicious behavior when there should have been at least some was its own particular brand of unsettling.

To play it safe, she isolated herself from her peers even further, planting a minor compulsion in Yukiko to go out less after school and help her family with their business. The other person she purposely dodged was her most recent friend: Emiya Shirou.

She particularly disliked pushing him away. He had been nothing but helpful and kind with her without asking so much as a thank you for his efforts. He didn't deserve that treatment, yet at the same time he did, since it was for his own sake. She didn't want to pull him into the conflict if she could help it, though she had to recognize that with his nightly activities he was at a very high risk of stumbling into the war regardless.

Damn, it all happened with the worst possible timing: the Grail, the kidnapping and their downfall. Sure, as a Magus of the Tohsaka line she basically lived in preparation for that event, but was it too much to ask for it not to infringe with her relationship?

Apparently so, she mused with a soft sigh. Too bad, she was sort of looking forward to spending some of her free time with a boy who had a mind superior to that of a poorly trained hormonal monkey. He was smarter than most people his age and somewhat cute if a little idiotic; definitely in good shape and with strong big hands that she wouldn't have disliked having on…

" …ka! Toshaka!"

"Kyaaah!" she shrieked, turning around to face the person she didn't want sneaking up on her in that precise moment. "E-E-Emiya-kun! Don't do that!"

"Uh, I'm sorry?" he half asked, giving a shrug. "I've been calling you for a while now, but you didn't even notice me. If you daydream while you walk, you're going to run into something."

"S-shut up," she snapped, more in embarrassment for being caught while she daydreamt about him than real annoyance "That's none of your business."

"Err, I guess not, but still—"

"Nevermind!" she cut him off. "Did you need something?"

"Ah, not really," he said, shaking his head with a smile. "I just saw you here on the road and wanted to say hi."

"Oh," she said, disarmed by his simple statement. "Well then, don't bother me so early in the morning for no particular reason. I have plenty of things to think about so don't waste my time."

She turned around and resumed her walk at a faster pace, eyes closed in a pained grimace as an embarrassed blush covered her face.

"But Tohsaka…."

"I'm going to be late for school," she shouted back. Damn, she hated being like that with him of all people."

"Tohsaka!"

"I said I'm going to-" **_TONK!_**

Pain invaded her entire skull, reverberating with the power of a hundred hammers.

"Watch out... for the pole…" Emiya said weakly. She could almost hear the cringe in his voice even through the loud ringing in her ears.

Face burning in a mixture of shame and embarrassment, Rin moved to the side of the offending piece of public property that had surely been planted here for the specific purpose of wounding her pride and she stormed away without looking back, hoping to find a hole in the ground where she could hide until this entire event was lost to history along with her name.

Gods, she hated herself sometimes.

* * *

><p>Shirou sighed in resignation, feeling guilty about the entire situation. Even though they were basically lying to each other for the other's sake, only he was aware of this byplay. He would rather tell her everything he knew, but for the sake of a long-term cooperation he preferred not to.<p>

Sometimes it felt entirely too stupid, even if he rationally knew that it was better to make an alliance on even grounds rather than imposing it from a superior position. Like it or not he would have to stick with his plan and hope that gaining an ally wouldn't mean losing a friend. He honestly hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

Either way, he probably was going to be slapped for his deception. He had better be ready for it when the time came, because it was probably going to hit harder than the electric pole just did to Tohsaka's face.

* * *

><p>"Our target in on the way to school," Jin said into her phone.<p>

"Understood," the voice of her husband answered back. "Keep him in your line of sight. I'll call you back when I've dealt with Lord El-Melloi and we're ready to commence operations."

"Be careful, love. Lord El-Melloi might primarily be a researcher, but he's not to be underestimated."

"Don't worry. He's not going to know what hit him. Literally."

"I have a bad feeling about this, husband. We're going in with too many unknown variables."

"We have worked with less, and we have the advantage of numbers and the element of surprise. If we are fast and thorough, we'll be fine."

"I hope so. I really hope so."

"I have to go now. Lord El-Melloi will come back soon."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p>That day through classes Shirou felt more under scrutiny than ever, but no matter what he did he couldn't find the source. Was it one of his classmates? Granted, it wouldn't have been the first time someone from school stalked him, but that was because of Tohsaka. After that had been solved it no longer happened, but since he didn't really understand the other boys his age save maybe for Issei, he couldn't tell if there was something going on. His social skills sucked like that and admittedly if it was some of them following him around town he might have not noticed them, but still it didn't seem likely. This kind of focused intent was too strong for any teenager to produce.<p>

It was like being under a surgeon's scalpel, completely void of maliciousness but equally deadly if need be. His instinct screamed at him to stay alert and be ready for anything, and he knew better than to ignore it. If someone were up to something, they wouldn't get him unprepared.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>A\N: Damn it! I had to break the chapter in two again. Seriously, the fight will be next chapter. I swear.<p>

That being said, in this chapter I've fiddled with Nasuverse's universe a little. I don't think I've violated any rule of any sort but I've rather conveyed how I think the background mechanics works.

Let me know what you think,

See ya.

A\N2: I've been pointed out that Misaki city actually has a stronger leyline than Fuyuki. I've corrected that part to match this info. Thanks to all who pointed it out.


	20. Broken Junction

**Chapter 19 – Broken Junction**  
>(Beta: RavingScholar, Zaralann, Cloud Link Zero - Published: 02.12.2013)<p>

* * *

><p>Life is but a number of unpredictable circumstances piled together. All actions have consequences, even the smallest ones, yet people almost never see the result of their choices unless it affects them directly. More than that, they can't even begin to truly imagine how things could have been had they made a certain action instead of another, or if their timing had been slightly altered.<p>

Some call it Butterfly Effect, some call it Chaos Theory, yet more people call it Destiny. Most people don't describe it in any way at all, for they never even realize such occurrences take place.

This is one of those situations.

* * *

><p>After Shirou left for school that morning, Medea started tinkering with the Boundary Field. As a legendary Magus from the Age of Gods, her knowledge was far superior to that of modern Mages and she could therefore erect protections the likes of which could no longer be seen in this era. The kind of Boundary Fields she could come up with would deter another Magus from trying to get him from miles away.<p>

That is, of course, if she wasn't trying to keep a low profile. For the purpose of remaining hidden until the official start of the War, the wards that covered Shirou's home were more than adequate. In fact, they were extremely well done for an era when Thaumaturgy had degraded so much. Not only did they dull excessive noise, but they also prevented the leaking of residual Prana from within its perimeter, thus making it impossible to perceive from the outside the actualization of any mystery performed inside.

It was a very subtle thing, which meant that there was a limit to the amount of protections that she could add without breaking this frail balance. Naturally, the need for safety could eventually surpass the need for secrecy, thus making necessary to set up at least a few dormant defenses that could be brought up at a moment's notice.

Frankly speaking, with the amount of energy she currently had at her disposal, there wasn't much else she could do besides that. Carving and powering several runes didn't take much of her reserves, thought they drained her slightly, but powering and maintaining a Boundary Field was another matter entirely. She needed Shirou to provide his Prana, possibly by storing a noticeable amount his blood in an apposite container, in order to activate the defenses around their home.

… Their home. Since when had she begun thinking about his house in those terms? It had barely been over a month since their first encounter, and even less since she really opened up to him. Just a couple of weeks since he revealed his knowledge of her darkest secrets; a couple of weeks spent living in relative tranquility, barely interrupted by the amusing antics of her host and his spirited guardian.

Two weeks spent without fear of being judged, scorned or despised. Was that enough to make her grow fond of this place?

No, likely not. She certainly liked the atmosphere of the Emiya household. It was quiet and soothing, but those weren't the reasons she liked the place so much as to call it her home. She realized, as she worked over the protections, that her reason for being fond of the place was because it was the place where _he_ would return.

It was such a silly thought, she mused. To think that she, of all people would grow attached to a fifteen year old boy whom she had just came to know. It wasn't like she was above or beneath such feelings; there had been a time when she loved and cared for other people as well, but she had grown to believe that such emotions were forcefully beaten out of her after a lifetime of betrayals, both received and delivered.

She had rediscovered a part of herself she had believed to be forever lost, a…vulnerable part of her. Rationally, she should have squashed these thought as soon as they came up. They were a weakness she couldn't afford. Even though she sincerely believed in his allegiance, she knew that if she considered him to be disposable then she could craft her usual schemes and come out victorious from any and every situation.

But what was victory? What did it mean for her to win at this point? What was her reason to live if all she had around her was but a wasteland devoid of anyone else? What did she really want for herself now?

She was so confused. She was never confused before: she always knew what she had to do, but now all answers escaped her. At this point, she actually didn't know what the question was anymore.

It was all Shirou's fault. He made her unable to think straight. That was perhaps enough of a reason to warrant some well deserved punishment, but no matter how much she tried to bring up some painful way to make her displeasure known, all of her righteous anger dissipated like snow every time she considered how to apply it to him.

In fact, instead of frowning or muttering dark curses under her breath as she would normally do when she was upset with someone, she was instead humming a cheerful tune as her hands kept drawing rune after rune. When the realization of such an unusual thing reached her conscious brain she stopped in her tracks, one finger alight with Prana still up in the air in front of the wall she was working on.

She remained like that for a while, frozen in surprise teetering toward shock.

"Could it be that I really...?"

She didn't voice the rest of her question. She didn't dare to think the rest of her question. She just couldn't acknowledge the possibility of such thing. Instead she lost herself in her work, hoping against hope that such a silly, ridiculous and improper train of thought would never come up again and it seemed to work just fine.

It wouldn't last even until that night.

* * *

><p>Dojima rubbed his eyes wearily. He had spent days mulling over his options, thinking about what course of action could be more successful and with the least amount of drawbacks. There was just no progresse on the Archer investigation. The teenage vigilante had gone to the ground, disappearing entirely, no doubt trying to avoid the attention of the media that had invaded Fuyuki after his most recent exploit. It appeared to work relatively well, because after weeks of no new sightings the various TV networks had called back their teams save for a reporter or two. Naturally the public interest hadn't subsided at all, but it was now clear to everyone that Archer wasn't about to give an interview anytime soon.<p>

As much as that was good news for the police in general, it wasn't good news for Dojima at all. He had hoped to uncover a little more about the vigilante before making any other move, but that clearly wasn't the case and he was at the end of his rope.

He just couldn't stand being left in the dark while aware of a threat to himself, his family and the general public. It just wasn't in his nature and all the postponing grated on his nerves, making him all the more unbearable to his colleagues. Even the ever-cheerful Adachi gave him a wide berth, probably fearing more paperwork should he upset his senior colleague in any way.

Dojima sighed. That couldn't continue anymore. One way or another, he had to turn this stagnant flow around and give shape to this threat that was looming over him and the entire city. Spying on his prime suspect hadn't worked at all, even if it had the unsettling upside of making him realize the wrongness of the situation.

Dangerous at it was, he was left with no other options but to face Emiya Shirou directly, hoping that his assumptions were right and that it would not backfire in any way. After a lot of pondering, he decided to bite the bullet and go to Emiya's house directly around the time he knew the boy would return from his job in town. If it was true that an organization kept an eye on the unnatural things that happened in Fuyuki, then Dojima wasn't about to force a confrontation in a public area, lest he involve innocent passerby in his own choices. He was a cop after all, and protecting innocent people was his ultimate duty.

That didn't mean he would just walk into a potential dangerous situation without a little preparation.

His plan was twofold. The first part was to leave a diary of his discoveries, outlining that he was the only person that possessed any knowledge of what really happened in Fuyuki. Perhaps it wouldn't be enough to protect Nanako, but it was better than nothing.

The second part was to take a small detour to the Requisition Office. He would never have believed that his colleague's lack of work ethic would come in handy someday.

* * *

><p>If Waver could have realized that things were about to go wrong, as he should have, it was because things have been going fairly well. True, the whole debacle the elder Archibald had caused was a problem he had to deal with and solve mostly on his own, but he was confident he could do it. Guilford's death had been problematic, but not even that much because finding his killer had been relatively easy. While not being able to uncover anything about Emiya's Magecraft before approaching him, Waver was fairly convinced that someone who passed his nights trying to save lives, in a way that differed a lot from his father's, wasn't the kind of person that would react violently unless provoked.<p>

Even if he did, Waver was certainly not defenseless, even without the added strength of his bodyguards.

In a world filled with conspiracies, populated by people who were willing to kill to protect their secrets and if possible to steal other's, a person's word was perhaps one thing that couldn't be thrown away easily and certainly not for small monetary gains. Magi-for-hire, just like their mundane counterpart based their trade on their reputations, not just as a resume of their skills and ability but also as the only proof that they could be trusted to carry out their assignment without betraying their employer.

The Cheong team, while not necessarily the best as far as skills and Thaumaturgy went, had a strong reputation for being trustworthy, to the point that if they weren't successful in their task they at least protected their employer from the downfall of their shortcomings. Thus Waver knew that his bodyguards could be trusted, that they would never turn against the people who hired him.

Therein lied the fallacy of his thought.

While not in agreement with the elders, Waver believed that on the matter of solving this situation they had a similar outlook as he did. He did, however, underestimate the depth of the grudge held by the elders, and the lengths they were willing to go to settle the score with those who had supposedly wronged them.

Waver did realize his error rather quickly, though he could hardly call himself proud of it. After all, it didn't do him any good to understand his mistake as his body grew progressively numb and as the still half filled glass slipped from his weakening grasp.

"You…." he growled at the Chinese man who moved to support him.

"My apologies, Mr. Waver," the man said as he helped him to sit on the sofa, "but we have received different orders about Emiya."

"Should have… seen this coming…" he groaned, finding it increasingly difficult to compose elaborate sentences. Using Magecraft was already something he could no longer do in his state.

"Do not be too hard on yourself," Jin protested. " To be betrayed by those whose will we're carrying out has killed more than a few experienced professionals."

Though he could see his point, Waver didn't find any comfort in in. He should have checked his drinks. Paranoia keeps people alive, all the more some in the Magi's society.

"Emiya…," he tried to speak.

"Will be dead before midnight," Jin concluded. "We will secure the Crest and bring it to you as soon as that is done."

Waver tried to stand up and for a moment it seemed like he could fight the sedative he had just swallowed. Jin, however, didn't like that at all and pushed him immediately back on the sofa.

"Please sit down, Mr. Waver. You've been fairly decent with me and my wife in the past few days. I'd hate to hurt you just to keep you down."

"…" Waver tried to say something, but darkness quickly overtook him and his eyes fell closed. Soon his breath slowed down, and a soft snore could be heard from his mouth.

"I truly am sorry about this," Jin concluded as he retrieved his coat and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The click of the lock snapping close had just ended that one of Waver's eyes snapped open. With a slow, shaking hand he reached for his pocket. With no little amount of difficulty, he retrieved a rather inconspicuous pill and brought it to his mouth. With his mouth dry like the desert swallowing the tiny concoction was harder than ever, but he finally managed to push it down without choking on it.

With the last of his energies spent, Waver could only fall back asleep and wait for his last move to take effect. With any luck, it would be fast enough for him to play a part in the battle to come.

* * *

><p><strong>That evening<strong>

Shirou left school after archery practice like almost every other day. He certainly wasn't the last student to leave the premises, but with the sun disappearing behind the horizon and the almost completely silent building behind him, Shirou felt a bit on edge.

Then again, the hour and the setting had probably very little to do with his current emotions, as they were probably caused by the constant pressure he felt through the day.

For weeks now, he had tried to lure out whoever was trailing him by moving through unpopulated areas in order to provoke a confrontation. It had proved completely useless, and combined with the fact that he hadn't done anything worthy of notice he couldn't figure for the life of him who was after him and why. Thaumaturgy was no use either, as whomever it was that was following him disappeared when he got too close. As he didn't feel any residual Prana, he almost – _almost_- dismissed the possibility of a Magus being involved, but seeing how he himself had misled an opponent like that before he wasn't so fast to fall for that trick.

Still, he was growing increasing unnerved. As he made his way toward his evening work, mixing among the crowd, the pressure never let go. Only when he went inside the _Copenhagen_ did the feeling of being watched subside.

Aside from the main entrance, the establishment only had a rear exit, normally used by the personnel to load stuff in the warehouse. It stood to reason that his mysterious observer would not follow him inside but rather keep an eye on the exits, waiting for him to leave.

Still mulling over the issue, Shirou went to do his assigned task, once more picking up the slack for his colleagues who didn't bother to show up at all.

* * *

><p>Jun was growing increasingly impatient. She had been following Emiya Shirou for days, only occasionally switching over with Jin. Quite frankly, keeping up with the boy was a tiring task. Not only did Emiya go to a number of places every day, making observing him a full time employment, but he had an uncanny ability to detect intent that only improved over time. She was now forced to watch him from several hundred meters away, and even then he seemed to perceive her presence from time to time if his attempts to lure her out were any indication.<p>

More than a few times she was forced to hide when he got too close. She considered taking him out once and for all during such occurrences, but while he often stayed in more or less unpopulated areas there just wasn't any guarantee that a battle wouldn't spill over and alert the Second Owner of their presence in town. That was a situation to avoid at all costs and for that reason, taking him down under the protections of his own property was the best course of action: the Boundary Field around his house would make sure that no Prana could be detected from the outside, and even loud noise would be toned down to acceptable levels.

So she stuck to the plan and followed Emiya one last time until he got to the place where he worked almost every evening. When he was in front of the shop and she was fairly sure he had no intention to go elsewhere, she spun around and left for the intended meeting point. As she moved through the crowd she took out the phone from her pocket and dialed her husband's number.

"Emiya has reached his destination," she said when Jin picked up. "How are things on your end?"

"Lord El-Melloi has been dealt with. Non-violently," he replied straight away.

"He drank from the bottle you put in the mini-bar?" she inquired.

"Drank two and half glasses before it took effect. Lucky for us he can hold his alcohol or I would have been forced to up the dose, but then he would have noticed the taste. Still took him a while to pass out."

"At least you didn't have to resort to more forceful methods. I would have…disliked to hurt him," she said with a small crease in her brow.

On the other side of the line her husband chuckled. "Do I have to be jealous? You usually don't have this amount of concern for anyone."

"He's just… too clean. Not naïve, but really honest and straightforward. He's a rarity in our line of work."

"I agree," he said, and she could hear the shrug in his voice, "but there's no use crying over split milk. Not at this point."

"At least we can get the job done fast and clean. That has to count for something."

"That's all that matters in the end," her husband corrected. A grim statement that outlined what their lives amounted to in the eyes of everyone but each other.

"I'm on my way to our meeting point. I'll be there in half an hour," she said, wisely opting not to comment on his earlier statement.

"Preparations are already complete. I'll be waiting for you."

With that she ended the conversation and put away her phone. Just a bit more and this job would finally be over.

* * *

><p>Dojima parked his car a fair distance away from Emiya's house, yet still close enough to see the front wall and the gates. From there it was unlikely that he would be spotted, and he was on the opposite side of the gates from the way the boy should take to return home. According to what he managed to gather by asking around, Emiya didn't have a fixed shift at his workplace, so he could very well return earlier or later than expected.<p>

On the passenger's seat there was a rather inconspicuous duffle bag, though it was filled with some very interesting_arguments_ should the discussion he had in mind go wrong.

Frankly speaking, he hoped that once exposed, Emiya would be willing to talk. Their previous interactions had proved that he was at least a nice person, if not a law-abiding citizen. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, especially considering what was at stake.

Turning off the engine, he reclined the seat a little and prepared to wait for as long as it took.

* * *

><p>The sun had disappeared entirely behind the horizon, but the wondrous advancements of mankind still lit the town as bright as day. As usual, the bustling noise of the city was but a distant echo in the residential neighborhood, but the air was unmoving and tense far more than normal.<p>

Experienced soldiers would recognize it as the calm before the storm, that moment of absolute quiet that anticipated the beginning of a conflict. Or at least that's how it felt for the Chinese duo that was watching over the Emiya household from the vantage point of a nearby rooftop. Kneeling on the inclined surface, husband and wife set down their ever-present metal suitcases, closed not only with mundane locks but also with a complex sealing Magecraft. The content of the suitcase was priceless on many levels. It was their tool for killing, their weapon of choice and a symbol that represented the bond between them, on top of being extremely rare Artifacts.

With a minor, simultaneous application of Prana both suitcases snapped open, revealing their ominious contents to the moonless night.

With a nod of confirmation to each other they turned to their battlefield of choice. Taking a Magus in his own territory was said to be a suicidal move, but that was only a matter of ability and circumstances. With enough speed and skill and with the advantage of the element of surprise, it was possible to exploit an opponent Magus's sense of security against him.

Luck was even on their side in this case. Their current target was setting the base to strengthen the defenses around the property, but she still had to finish them. Laying the base for a Boundary Field within another Boundary Field was a complex operation that required an enormous amount of focus, and she had been doing that for most of the afternoon. Regardless of her personal skill as a Magus, the woman had to be exhausted by this point, certainly enough that they could take her down without a fuss. The fact that she was in the open instead of inside the house or the Workshop was another advantage they weren't going to waste.

They charged their bodies with Prana, causing the runes tattooed on their bodies to shine momentarily from beneath their business suits. Without a word they leaped through the air, sailing for several meters before landing on the walls. They didn't stop to ponder the tickling sensation of the Wards on their skin, jumping again toward the purple haired woman that had now noticed their presence and was already turning in their direction with a startled expression on her face.

It was too late for her to do anything. She didn't have enough time to cast any Aria, and she obviously didn't have any Mystic Code or another weapon on her person. Victory was theirs-

**"Αποκρούσει!"**

Or at least they thought so before a blinding light propelled them both backwards with enough force to push beck a freight train. Only years of experience allowed them to flip in mid flight and land on their feet, skidding several meters backward and almost slamming them against the wall at the opposite end of the courtyard.

Maybe… this wasn't going to be as easy as they had hoped.

* * *

><p>If Dojima had blinked in that moment, he knew he would have missed it entirely. Instead, he clearly saw two human figures fall from the sky and land on the walls that surrounded Emiya's property and then leaping again fast as lightening inside the premises. He saw a flash from behind the wall just a fraction of a second later, and after what must have been the time of a heartbeat several other flashes in different colors exploded, causing only a minor noise as if they were dulled explosions.<p>

"Oh shit," he swore when his brain kicked in and he realized what he had seen. What appeared to be two people had flown down from the sky and landed behind that wall. This wasn't what he was expecting when he had went there that night and yet it was the confirmation that something unnatural was going on in Fuyuki, something beyond the comprehension of common human beings.

He was still considering his options, but his body was already on the move. Opening the zipper of his duffle bag, he extracted a few items from his "_insurance package_" and then stepped out of the car.

His heart was beating madly in his chest. Beyond those walls there was something going on that he had no experience with; something that he didn't know how to deal with. Something that might very well kill him in ways he didn't want to imagine.

"Fuck this shit," he finally said as he stormed toward the entrance. He was a cop, damn it! This was his job, his damn mission. If something was threatening the citizen of Fuyuki it was his duty to see it locked behind bars… if possible.

Sliding against the wall he pushed open the gate and peered inside. What he saw made his heart freeze. That just… what the hell was he seeing?

The foreign woman that he knew had recently moved in with his primary suspect was being attacked by a man and a woman who were moving around too fast for him make out their faces, but he could clearly see that they wore black business suits and that they were holding… swords of all things.

A black and a white falchion respectively.

They moved at a speed too fast for the human to properly follow. They were a blur to his eyes most of the time, save for that brief moment when they stopped to change direction in their movement. That was, however, the least impressive thing he saw. The woman they were obviously trying to kill was pushing them back every time they got to close, muttering words in a language he didn't understand. Every word was followed by a blast of energy directed toward the two assailants, which they dodged at the last possible moment. Each blast exploded on the ground, creating large craters whey they struck.

"Fucking aliens," Dojima murmured too shocked to do anything but gape like a fish out of water.

His trembling hand reached for his gun, hoping that it would be of some use in this situation. But what should he do at that point? Should he really get himself caught up in this? He didn't even know what was going on at that point, but…

… but he was a cop, and no matter what these people were, something was very obvious even to him: those two persons in business suit had trespassed on a private property, and were now trying to kill the person who lived inside.

He was completely out of his depths, but no matter how he looked at it there was something wrong with this situation. Perhaps he was just grasping at straws, trying to fit the situation into something he knew how to deal with.

It was stupid, he knew. It would probably get him killed, but as time went by he could see that the two assailants were circling their target closer by the minute. At this rate it was just a matter of time before they prevailed.

Regardless of what or who she was, could he just stand aside and watch a person being killed? He simply could not.

Cursing himself for his suicidal stupidity he stepped inside the gate and pulled out his gun, pointing it in the general direction of the battle.

"EVERYONE FREEZE!" he shouted loud enough to be heard over the explosions. When all three turned to him with murderous eyes he could only suppress a flinch and stand his ground. He felt it in his bones: this was going to get very ugly, very fast.

* * *

><p>What the hell was going on, Medea asked herself as she sent spell after spell at her sudden assailants. She didn't know who these people were except that they were obviously mages and extremely skilled fighters on top of that. Nothing short of that could hope to survive her High Speed Divine Words, even in her weakened state.<p>

Were they other prospective Masters? Or maybe they worked for one and were acting on his behalf? That made little sense, as no one should have known that she was a Servant except for Shirou. Her current condition served to conceal her supernatural origins to everyone who didn't bother to check in depth.

No, since there was little chance that they knew of her nature, then… maybe they weren't really after her, but rather after Shirou, especially considering that he was hiding from the Magi community to escape the resentment that his father had earned during his career.

They had unwillingly stepped in the lion's den without realizing the true extent of the threat she represented. It was a matter of bad timing on both sides. She was far weaker than she was supposed to be, but still she was clearly stronger than they expected. They couldn't figure out her Magecraft, so different was it from that of the modern era so they were being held back, but her rapidly waning resources meant that it was only a matter of time before they prevailed over her unless she managed to land a serious blow soon.

No matter how powerful a Magus she was, Medea was not a fighter. True, the extent of her Mysteries far surpassed the current age's, and her status as Heroic Spirit served only to widen that gap even further… if she wasn't being stymied by the lack of a proper energy source.

To make thing worse, these people were strong. Even after being caught unprepared they kept a cool head and moved around avoiding all her attacks. High level Mysteries were beyond her reach right now and therefore she could only perform straightforward attacks that weren't enough for her to prevail. In addition, her keen eye told her that the black and white falchions they wielded were not something to trifle with. They were ancient, and they carried a strength that went beyond that of the arms that wielded them. Something like that could no doubt harm even a spiritual entity such as her.

As she contemplated all this, she kept firing the fastest but least powerful spell she had so as to preserve her power, but her energies were still going down far too quickly. If the battle kept going like that she was going to lose. She needed something to change the flow of the battle to her advantage, but she wasn't known for her luck in dangerous situations.

"EVERYONE FREEZE!" a voice shouted, causing the attention of all the presents to shit to the source of the disturbance.

A man stood in front of the gates, pointing a weapon at them; a gun, the Grail provided. She didn't know who he was, but for once luck seemed to smile on her, providing her with the distraction she needed.

"POLICE! EVERYONE STAND DOWN!" the man ordered in a surprising show of willpower in spite of the clear confusion and fear in his eyes. Of course no one present was going to comply with his request, but if what she knew about Magi nowadays was correct, her assailants couldn't ignore his presence like she could. Her total lack of care for the regulations of the Clock Tower meant that he was a problem for the duo to deal with, preferably fast.

To her supreme satisfaction the Chinese man abandoned his place and darted toward the third intruder, leaving his companion alone with Medea. Time for a comeback!

* * *

><p>For a moment Dojima thought that they were going to listen and stand down quietly. Of course, that small delusion was soon shattered when the man ran toward him at speeds comparable to a car, brandishing the black falchion at his side.<p>

In that moment, Dojima's eyes narrowed. Crushing the fear and the confusion under the familiar feeling of being targeted, he pointed the gun toward his assailant and without further warning he shot. One, two, three, four times. Each and every shot missed the target, but not because of a lack of skill on Dojima's part. The guy had dodged each and every time, jumping aside just like he did to avoid the purple-headed woman's laser beams.

Surprisingly, Dojima realized, that fact relieved him a great deal. If his opponent had to bother dodging that meant that bullets could affect him. It didn't make him any easier to hit, but it was a comforting thought that this alien didn't have any energy shield or invulnerability.

Still, good news aside, the Chinese-looking man was getting closer and closer, slowed down only by the fact that he had to move in a zigzag pattern. When the loud click of his gun being emptied was heard, Dojima didn't bother reloading. Instead he let the useless weapon fall on the ground, slipped both his hands under his coat taking out another pair of 9mm and pointing and firing them both at his assailant.

However the increased number of bullets coming in his direction seemed to be only a minor nuisance for the falchion-wielding man, though it forced him to dodge in even wider movement.

"Aliens or whatever…" Dojima growled as it became clear that his current firepower wasn't going to cut it and the killing blade drew closer. When both guns again clicked empty, Dojima let them fall as before, once more putting his hands under his coat and behind his back. There was a pang of satisfaction in Dojima's chest when the Chinese guy's eyes widened and his complexion paled as he found himself on the business end of a pair of Uzi. "…. DON'T UNDERSTIMATE THE POWER OF THE POLICE!"

His roar of fury was only covered by the sound of his weapons showering his opponent with bullets in an arc so spread out that even for him it was impossible to dodge entirely. The man had only time to cross his arms in front of his face, using the flat of his sword as a makeshift shield, as several bullets impacted on his body and sunk under his clothes and, hopefully, flesh.

Welcome to Earth, motherfucker!

* * *

><p>Jin couldn't believe the absurdity of the situation he was currently living. Not only was their first target was capable of high end Thaumaturgy the likes of which he had never seen or heard about, but a cop of all people stumbled on the scene. Truth be told, the whys or who mattered little as he was about to die for his scarce luck.<p>

However, the cop proved to be more ready to face the unexpected situation that Jin gave him credit for. It was to be noted that, in spite of what one would be inclined to believe, Magi were not normally bulletproof as they rarely interacted with mundane armed forces anymore. Rather, they focused their protections on shielding themselves from other Magi's Mysteries instead of common weapons. It was only because of the generic enhancement on his body and clothes that the bullets that hit him managed to stop just beneath the skin without doing any real damage.

It still hurt like a bitch, though, more to his pride than to his actual body. To think that a normal person could manage to hurt him like that… it pissed him off!

Gritting his teeth, Jin waited for onslaught of bullets to end before standing up straight again and glaring that the cop.

"Well, fuck…" he heard him mutter in disbelief.

"Indeed," Jin agreed with a growl. He wasn't one to speak needlessly during an assignment, but he was fairly pissed off, but at himself more than anyone else. Then, before the cop had any chance to pull out another gun from somewhere on his body he sprinted forward, lifting his sword for a downward strike that would certainly kill in one blow.

The sword fell toward the face of the stunned cop who was uselessly trying to dodge…

**CLANG!**

… when it was halted by the length of an extremely long katana, a nodachi to be precise. Jin found himself staring straight into the golden eyes of an extremely enraged Emiya Shirou, dressed in an apron with the logo of a cat on his chest and the word Copenhagen emblazoned just beneath.

Jin was forced to jump backward to avoid a blow that would have cut him in two halves while Emiya stood his ground and lifted his weapon at the eye level with the cutting side turned to the sky and the point slightly inclined toward the ground.

Why had he returned? Did the Boundary Field warn him of their intrusion? But that couldn't be the only thing to have tipped him off; he worked on the other side of the city. He couldn't possibly have made his way back in the couple of minutes since their attack started.

This entire operation was going completely wrong.

* * *

><p><strong>Thirty minutes earlier<strong>

When the realization that something was amiss hit Shirou he was serving at the tables, a rare occurrence considering he normally worked in the back, moving boxes of liquor and other perishable goods as necessity required. Neither job required him to think too much or to remain focused on what he was doing, so he had a lot of time to think about other things.

It was a subtle thing, probably just his brain working too much over the strange feeling of the past few weeks. He was being kept under surveillance, he knew, but by unknown parties for unknown reasons, and all of his attempts to figure out the identity of his stalkers had been a waste of time.

It was a small suspicion, really. Not something he should have wasted his time on, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of place. When he arrived at the Copenhagen that evening and he felt the stare of his pursuers lose him, Shirou assumed it was just like every other time he entered a building where he couldn't be observed without giving away their position, but this time something was different.

He was fairly sure that this mysterious observer had stopped watching him as soon as he was about to enter the café: not after he entered, but just before he did.

That didn't make much sense, did it? If the sensation of being watched had faded once he had closed the door behind him it would have simply meant that he had slipped out of sight, but the fact that it happened _before_ he did so meant that this unidentified observer had stopped on his own.

… Did that mean they were giving up? That whatever reason they had to keep him under surveillance was no more? Or maybe they just wanted to know where he was at a certain time?

Again his mind whirled, trying to probe the unique scenario. This had happened before, now that he thought about it. He was being targeted by someone for reasons unknown… but what if he wasn't the one that was being targeted? What if they just wanted to know he was out of the way when these person or persons went about their business?

A chill ran down his spine. Could it be that another Master or prospective Master had figured out what had happened to Guilford, connected him to Archer, and then to Tohsaka? It was a bit far-fetched as he was sure he had left no trace to connect him with Guilford, but Magecraft had ways to uncover and piece together seemingly unrelated things.

Now, this suspicion was just the byproduct of having too much time to think, and probably any other rational individual would have chalked it up to the result of an overactive imagination.

Everyone…but not Emiya Shirou, especially not when the safety of someone else could be at risk.

"Otoko-san," he called for the woman that ran the place. "I forgot to do something important today. I have to go home."

He didn't wait for an answer and ran out of the establishment, apron still wrapped around his body. He barely heard his employer saying something about him getting some rest for a change, but he really paid her no mind. His focus was entirely on the lack of feeling of being observed he had felt every time he was in a public place for the past two weeks.

To think that he would panic for not being targeted by unknown stalkers would have been hilarious in any other situation but this.

"Taxi," he called out and climbed in as soon as the vehicle stopped. Giving instructions to head for the residential area on the other side of the bridge Shirou hoped that he wasn't too late. Thankfully there wasn't much traffic at that hour, meaning that taking a car would be faster than him roof-hopping all the way to Tohsaka's place. Nonetheless, he slipped a few banknotes to the driver in exchange for a heavier foot on the accelerator, and fifteen minutes later he was dropped in front of Tohsaka's place.

Looking at the mansion from the entrance, he could see a light on at the second floor and the familiar shadow of the twin-tailed Magus going about her business in complete calm.

Giving a sigh of relief, Shirou almost smacked the back of his head for worrying too much when the tingle of the Boundary Field around his house echoed in his head, warning him about an intruder slipping past his perimeter.

No… not one intruder: two at the same time, and a few moments later a third.

"Medea," he whispered as his mind connected the dots. It wasn't Tohsaka that was being targeted, but the Heroic Spirit living under his roof. "TRACE ON!"

Forgetting everything about his own safety, about protecting his identity and the secret of Magecraft, Shirou filled his body with Prana to the point of pain and immediately jumped over the closest building and from there in direction of his home.

It was just pure luck that no one saw him doing these things that were beyond human limits, even more so when Tohsaka slammed her window open in search of whoever was using Magecraft in proximity of her house.

He was, however, completely ignorant of his luck, focused as he was in getting back as fast as he could. He completely disregarded the pain in his limbs from the excessive Reinforcement, and he didn't care for the roof tiles that broke when he landed from the jumps of twice the length he normally performed in order to prevent damage to other people's property and attract attention to his preferred route.

None of that mattered as his Reinforced eyes caught the sight of a battle between Magi in his own courtyard and what appeared to be… Detective Dojima? Oh, shit! As if the situation wasn't bad enough as it was. Medea was powerful and could handle herself while he made his way back, but Dojima had no way of…

Wait… were those two Uzi in his hands? Whoa, whoa, whoa. He was actually holding back a Magus with modern weaponry? Shirou might have cracked a smile at the irony if he hadn't realized that Dojima had brought all of that firepower to his house for some reason, and he frowned when he saw that it wouldn't be enough to keep his assailant at bay for much longer if he didn't get there soon.

However, Shirou was unarmed while the intruders seemed to have each a sword at their disposal. He wasn't confident enough in his bare handed skill to take on a combat oriented Magus armed with blades. He needed a weapon too, preferably Monohoshizao, but he couldn't make a detour into his Workshop were he kept it. Besides, he would land right in the middle of the battle with but two more jumps. No time to change direction now.

… And so what? So what if he didn't have a sword? Why did he need to look for a sword in the first place?

**"I am the bone of my Sword."**

Familiar words echoed in his mind and on his lips, rippling through reality with their sound.

In the distance, beyond an unseen horizon at dusk, great gears turned and the hammer fell against steel. Shirou didn't need to look at his hand for confirmation. To begin with, it was his unshakable conviction that made the existence now in his grasp possible at all. The need to confirm the reality he had just brought forth would have only served to shatter it sooner. He just gripped the hilt tighter in preparation as he jumped one last time on a rooftop near his house. With precision aim, he landed upright between Dojima and the unnamed person that was trying to kill him.

**_CLANG_****!**

With a clash of steel, Monohoshizao halted the killing blow from the black falchion – **_Kanshou_**- that would have otherwise cut Dojima in two. The assassin leaped back and took a guarding stance, just like Shirou did with Monohoshizao.

"Archer..." Dojima said behind him, and Shirou winced. No use in denying it now, not when he was holding the same weapon he was seen with in his vigilante persona.

"Later," he replied without turning around. "I have to deal with this now."

Dojima's answer was the sound of a clip sliding into his weapons. It seemed that saving the other man's life served at least to make him trust Shirou enough to postpone bothersome questions.

"Stand back," he said firmly to the detective. "Right now your weapons can't really do him any serious harm."

"He's bleeding well enough," Dojima protested, looking at the stains forming on the Chinese assassin clothes.

"Superficial wounds, at best. Let me deal with him," Shirou repeated without taking his eyes off of the powerful black sword in his enemy's hand.

"You've gotta be kidding. This guy isn't human. He-" Shirou's rebuttal to Dojima protest came in the form of a movement at a speed that no normal human could match. Dashing forward toward his opponent he clashed Monohoshizao against Kanshou, engaging the silent assassin in a battle of lightening fast blows powerful enough to cause sparks to ignite upon contact.

This man was extremely good, Shirou realized, to able to stand his ground against a weakened Heroic Spirit, survive mostly unscathed from a shower of bullets from close range and now engage a fully Reinforced Magus wielding a blade with the skill of a master swordsman. He was stronger than Shirou was, the redhead admitted to himself. The level of his opponent's enhancement was definitely superior to his, and he clearly moved like an experienced assassin. The only reason why Shirou wasn't being overwhelmed lay in the sword that was currently wielding.

Degraded though it was, the skill of Sasaki Kojirou was certainly unparalleled, and was more than enough to close the gap in ability of the two contenders. That being said, Shirou was still at a disadvantage. In spite of having superior technique, his opponent – **_Cheung Jin_** –had a far better sword. Monohoshizao might very well have been a masterpiece of blacksmithing, but it was ultimately a common blade as far as materials and forging processes went. Furthermore, it wasn't a blade meant to be repeatedly slammed against another, even if Shirou had Reinforced it beforehand.

Ultimately, the black falchion was something far more powerful in its very existence. A Mystic Code forged by long lost methods and with the added power of the willing sacrifice of a human life. With the added rejection of Gaia against his Projection, it was just a matter of time before Monohoshizao would shatter, and there was no way he had time to Project another before he was struck down.

He needed a way out, something to change the flow of the battle so radically that he could claim victory without fail. To the best of his knowledge there was just one thing he could possibly do, but the question was: would she agree with his plan? He could not stop and ask her opinion at that point, nor discuss the benefits and drawbacks of such a choice. The only thing he could do was to make his offer and let her choose to accept or not. Therefore…

* * *

><p>While the male side of the battle raged, from the moment when the Chinese man detached himself from the confrontation with the Heroic Spirit, Medea had kept fighting one on one against the falchion-wielding woman.<p>

One would think that having a single target to shoot at instead of two would mean half the difficulty, but that wasn't necessarily the case. It was clear now that the unspoken decision of who remained to fight her and who left to kill the policeman hadn't been casual at all. Between the two, it was now clear that the woman had a far superior speed and agility compared to the man, probably in lieu of her slightly thinner frame.

If the battle had started one on one from the beginning Medea could have disposed of this person with relative ease, but the lucky distraction provided by the very unlucky officer only served to even the odds again.

With the entirety of her focus on her only remaining opponent, Medea did her best to wave around the slashes of the pristine white blade while counterattacking with her own spells. There was no way she would lose against a single human opponent, not even someone as skilled as this one.

Then again, winning on her own probably wasn't what Medea's opponent was planning at all. Chances were that she was merely stalling long enough for her partner to finish off the interloper and return to end the job they started together.

Frankly, she didn't think the mundane officer could last more than a few seconds against a Magus as skilled as these two, but when the officer started shooting with those automated weapons of his Medea understood why the current era's weaponry became so widespread: decent damage with zero quality material and little to no wielding skill. It was so cheap it was disgusting, but when it comes down to "kill your enemy" everything that works is well accepted. Still, it wasn't a wonder that the world had declined so rapidly when no effort had to be made to achieve a result.

Philosophic musings aside, the outcome of the confrontation between the two men hadn't changed one bit, but was simply being postponed a little. By proxy, even her own chances wouldn't improved if nothing else intervened to change the flow in her favor.

When the cop ran out of bullets and was about to be killed, Medea knew that with her remaining energies she wouldn't be able to last more than a handful of seconds against the combined effort of the two assailants. Shifting to spirit form and leaving was not even an option. It took at least a couple of seconds to fade, and in that timeframe she would be struck at least four times.

The thought that she was about to be killed by two strangers that probably weren't even aware of the Holy Grail War before she even had a chance to compete sickened her. It was yet another proof that Fate was against her and would not rest until she was properly humiliated and trampled upon.

A feeling of anger mixed with an all too familiar hopelessness rose like bile into her chest…

… and was ruthlessly crushed when the corner of her eyes caught a glimpse of a mop of red hair flying down on the battlefield, followed by a gleam of light reflected on the all too distinct length of Monohoshizao.

_'Shirou!'_

Her face split into a smile in spite of the dire situation she was still living. She almost felt like hugging him for the timing of his arrival. She didn't know how he managed to get back to her so fast but in that moment she didn't exactly care. What mattered was that when he needed him the most, he appeared once again at her side. Could she have hoped for a more reliable partner?

However, even the newfound appreciation for the teenage Magus couldn't have prepared for what came next.

**_"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg."_**

She heard Shirou chant. His voice carried loud and clear regardless of the clashing steel and the explosions she was causing with her spells. The implication of those words didn't escape her. She understood his reasoning, she knew what he was trying to accomplish. With a Contract she could reach her full potential, and with that she could easily overcome such meager opponents with a single high-level spell.

**_"The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate"_**

Would she accept? Could she agree to be bound and shackled once more? To be subjected to the will of another? Regardless of the fact that she could free herself at any given time, to accept a Contract meant to grant someone power over her, and she loathed that with her whole being. Now that she was free and could sustain herself without having to rely on someone else… to once again have to consider someone else her Master…

**_"Shut (fill)_****. ****_Shut (fill)_****. ****_Shut (fill)_****. ****_Shut (fill)_****. ****_Shut (fill)_****. ****_Repeat every five times. Simply, shatter once filled._****"**

Shirou continued unrelentingly, reaching out for her. She knew the reason for her doubts. She knew it all too well, but she didn't want admit it to herself. Of all people, Shirou was the last person she wanted as her Master. Had he been just another scumbag Magus she wouldn't have the same problem. If only he were someone she could betray without regret…

No, she couldn't do it. He was already too close for comfort, much closer than anyone else had been in several lifetimes. To let him get even closer scared her to no end. There was just no way she could do it.

If only she could dispose of the woman in front of her there, there would be no immediate reason for them to make a contract. With that in mind, she poured all her remaining energies for a killing blow.

-oOo-

**_"I announce. Yourself is under me, my fate (doom) is in your sword." _**Shirou chanted as he fought

Monohoshizao clashed against Kanshou again. The slender metal of the nodachi groaned under the strain. It was just a matter of moments now. Just a few more seconds and the blade would give in. Things had grown even worse after he started his incantation. Jin doubled his efforts, trying to kill him before he could complete it.

**"In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer."**

Would it last until he finished, or would it give in before he could make it? The answer came a moment later when Kanshou crashed through the side of Monohoshizao. The projected sword crumbled and the pieces disappeared into thin air.

Shirou stepped back, raising his arm in the basic stance of the Snake with full knowledge that he wouldn't stand a chance now that he had lost his blade. The best he could hope to accomplish was to land a crippling if not an outright killing blow and take his opponent down with him, giving Medea a at least a chance to prevail on her own.

However, the blow Shirou was expecting didn't come. He saw surprise on Jin's face a moment before he threw the black Kanshou in Medea's direction. Shirou turned his head just enough to see the Heroic Spirit charging a spell that would probably kill her opponent, only to cease it to dodge the razor sharp blade coming in her direction. Then, she was forced to put up a glimmering shield to stop the white falchion – **_Bakuya_** – that was swung at her face in that moment of distraction.

Reassured that she wasn't hit, Shirou capitalized on that moment and struck Jin with several vicious strikes. His blows landed, though their efficacy was greatly reduced by the Chinese Magus' enhancement. It didn't matter. Shirou was confident that now he had at least a serious chance to prevail.

Then a shiver went down his spine; the realization that he had overlooked something of extreme importance. Kanshou was a Mystic Code. A Mystic Code with an aptitude to slay monsters and with another peculiar feature. It was always drawn to its wife sword Bakuya, no matter how far apart they were from each other.

Shirou didn't need to look back. His ability to grasp everything edged told him all he needed to know. Without a second thought he spun around and dashed toward Medea, not caring for the sound of footsteps giving chase just behind him. He had a life to save.

* * *

><p>Medea cursed inwardly. Almost all of her energies were gone, wasted to pull up a hasty defense when the Chinese woman used the opening given by the black sword to strike at her. She was at the end of her rope now. The only thing she could hope for was that Shirou had finished his opponent now that he had disarmed himself and would come to her rescue.<p>

She turned to him in that moment, and indeed she saw him running toward her. However, the other Magus wasn't dead but was following shortly behind. Moreover, the panic etched over Shirou's face unsettled her deeply. What could force him to abandon victory and turn his back to a deadly opponent?

"Behind!" he shouted without stopping.

Medea's head snapped in the other direction. Almost in slow motion she saw the black blade, impossibly flying back toward her, spinning so fast that it looked like a razor sharp disk. It was too fast and it was too close. There was just no way she could dodge it again, and even if she did it would have meant releasing the shield that was keeping the white falchion at bay.

To think that she would die struck from behind… a fitting end for someone who had betrayed everyone who had ever trusted her.

Just as she resigned herself to die once more, her body was shoved backward. The spinning blade sailed over her, managing to cut just a few hairs and miraculously missing even her savior by mere millimeters. Of course, as Medea well knew, miracles were not known for being recurring events.

* * *

><p>Shirou's muscles ripped under the strain and his bones cracked from the sudden burst of Reinforcement he forced into his legs. At the last possible moment he managed to push Medea out of Kanshou's path, somewhat managing to dodge as well. To his great misfortune, though, his opponents were not so unskilled as not to be capable of reacting to an expected situation.<p>

The Chinese woman – **_Cheong Jun_** – turned to him, and in one swift motion she slashed at his stomach. Blood erupted from his body, splattering mercilessly onto the face of a shocked Medea. Through the pain he heard the sound of a hilt smacking into the palm of a hand behind him, and didn't need to turn to know what was about to happen.

His suspicions found confirmation when the black falchion dug deeply into back, cutting through his ribcage and severing his spine. Pain like nothing he had felt before surged through him. Now without impulses from his brain his already damaged legs gave in and he fell forward, right into the open arms of the woman he had sworn to protect.

* * *

><p>Medea was frozen in shock. Blood splattered onto her face from the gash on Shirou's stomach. The young man that had come to her rescue suffered an injury that was meant for her, and to her further horror he was again struck from behind by the very blade that he had just saved her from.<p>

He toppled forward into her outstretched arms, pouring even more blood over her robes.

Why? Why go to such lengths for her? Why risk his own life for her sake?

_'Even if you made an enemy out of the entire world, I will be your ally.'_

That was the promise he made her. Her ally. The one who would stand by her side regardless of the odds, regardless of the risks; steadfast, without fearing injury or death.

_'I will save you. I swear.'_

And he did save her. In more ways than one, he saved her. His promise was kept, his oath fulfilled. And she didn't even thank him for it.

In her daze she barely managed to see the assassins closing the short distance to finish them both, only to be stopped momentarily by a reticule of crossed swords, each and everyone a copy of Monohoshizao, appearing from thin air all around them like a makeshift shield.

She heard a groan and she turned to look at the still conscious man in her arms; the man who even now, bloodied and dying as he was, was still fighting to preserve her life, to give her a chance at happiness and redemption.

Their eyes met and his hand surprisingly rose to cup her face, forcing her look at him.

**"Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead; I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead."**

Unable to look away, incapable and unwilling to break contact with those eyes peering into hers, she heeded his voice and it echoed deep inside her, igniting something that had long since slumbered under a thick layer of ice.

**"You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"**

She didn't need to think about her answer anymore. Anger filled her, a familiar feeling that she should have been accustomed to, but not in this situation. Her usual anger was cold and calculated, raging water underneath thick ice, but this… this was was entirely different. This time it was fueled by a flame the likes of which she had never know. It burned and raged through her, demanding retribution with every fiber of her being.

This smoldering, long forgotten feeling she did not yet dare to name… she wouldn't let go of it for any reason in the world!

**"Under the name of Caster, I accept this Contract!"**

She announced it loudly for everyone to hear. Energy flew through her with the strength of an overflowing river and the warmth of a summer afternoon. It was so different from the feeling she had received from Guilford that just the thought of comparing them was nauseating.

Her robes formed around her as lightening rippled around her body, lighting the night with the power of a promise she would never willingly break. Unlike her previous declaration, her next words were whispered so that only the rapidly passing out man in her arms could hear.

"You are my Master, Shirou."

* * *

><p>When the founding families had first set up the Grail System, they had taken into consideration a number of things that could go wrong with during the summoning. Several fail-safes were created to prevent things from going too wrong, such as in case more than one Catalyst was present during the ritual.<p>

However, for all their foresight none of them could take into consideration so many peculiar circumstances over the course of more than one installment of the competition.

A corruption in the system caused by several tamperings over the centuries.

A Thaumaturgy circle long forgotten under a thin layer of dust.

A Masterless Servant when the War had yet to properly begin.

A prospective Master using the full Aria to Contract said Servant instead of the shortened version.

A powerful Catalyst with a strong connection to a single Heroic Spirit.

There were just too many things that couldn't be accounted for beforehand; too many variables that couldn't be taken into account. To begin with, the probability of such a situation arising was so miniscule that not once had it been considered as an eventuality.

And yet, it happened.

Behind the closed door of a darkened tool shed, the Circle came to life while a fierce battle raged just outside, bathing the room in a supernatural light. As the red haired Magus kept chanting, more and more power ran through the forgotten lines carved on the concrete floor.

No one noticed the increasing light seeping outside from the small windows. No one saw the figure of a sword-wielding girl clad in blue flickering for a fraction of second before disappearing again, as the Contract prioritized the already formed Servant over the still shapeless one.

And so that which was meant to happen did not come to pass. The pact between the young man and the female King who shared similar beliefs did not come to pass, disappearing along with everything that it would have encompassed into the endless ocean of possibilities that was the swirl of the Kaleidoscope.

Call it a miscalculation of Fate: a chance of one in several billions. An eventuality so remote that even the Gods would have overlooked it.

And so, without anyone even realizing what could have been, the world went down an otherwise impossible path. A path that would change the future of too many people to count.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN:

There we go. The long awaited fighting scene.

Before anyone starts whining about the impossibility of Kanshou and Bakuya to be around let me just make something perfectly clear. These two swords, as stated in the chapter itself, are Mystic Codes, not Noble Phantasms.

I don't think it was ever properly explained in the Nasuverse but I think the a Noble Phantasm isn't actually the same weapon wielded by the Heroic Spirit, but rather is very same concept as taken from the Root and then elevated through the power of its legend.

Just like the body of a dead Hero doesn't ascend to the Throne, the original Mystic Code (If such was the origin of the NP) remains in the world and if properly taken care of it can be preserved to the modern era.

That being said I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

See ya soon.


	21. One Promise

**Chapter 20 – One Promise  
><strong>(Beta: RavingScholar – Published 02.24.12)

* * *

><p>Waver Velvet was many things, but an idiot was not one of them. He was perhaps a bit too trusting of others for a man in his position and a Magus to boot, but he didn't really mind. He had learned that to receive trust, one had to trust the other first, though it sometimes backfired spectacularly.<p>

Having just barely recovered from the sedative his backstabbing bodyguard had administered to him, Waver observed the battlefield from the vantage point of the nearby rooftop.

He wasn't an idiot, so he understood immediately what he was seeing. As if the familiar words the boy had spoken weren't enough of a giveaway, the overwhelming presence that the purple clad woman now exuded was unmistakable to a survivor of the Fourth War.

As if the situation hadn't been bad before, it had now slipped in a total shit-storm scenario. Just how could it be possible that a Servant had been summoned fifty years earlier than expected? Did it mean that the Holy Grail War was actually starting much sooner than it should have?

And why, why, _why_ did he of all people have to be there now? There should be a limit to how much a man's luck and timing could suck, but apparently that wasn't the case for Waver.

And now it was up to him to drag his sorry excuses for bodyguards out of the hole they had dug for themselves. For a split second, he honestly considered leaving them to suffer the consequences of their choices and fleeing before he could be spotted and targeted by the irate Servant.

"You contemptible little worms! " the Heroic Spirit raged. Fury leaked from her with every breath she took. "Violating the sanctity of my home, assaulting me and wounding my Master. Death wouldn't be enough of a punishment for the likes of you!"

Though he was already on the move, Waver knew he wouldn't make it in time. There was just no way.

* * *

><p>Jun felt the awareness that victory had just been snatched away from their fingers moments before they could finally claim it. Understanding dawned upon him when he first heard Emiya speak the terms of the Contract. Mention of the Holy Grail was all he needed to figure out the nature of the extremely powerful woman that they had tried to kill, and every remnant of doubt was wiped away when the redhead managed to complete the aria in spite of the deadly wounds they had managed to inflict on him.<p>

He couldn't begin to imagine the circumstances that had brought the present situation: how a Masterless Servant could have existed and acted for so long, and why the hell she had been summoned in the first place when the Grail War had taken place just ten years before.

The only thing that mattered was getting the hell away from there as fast as they could, hoping that the enraged Heroic Spirit would prioritize the health of her dying Master over the retribution she clearly wanted to unleash upon them.

He turned to his wife to signal their retreat just in time to see a blast of light vaporize her legs at knee height. He hadn't even made a full step in her direction before both of his arms disappeared in a similar fashion from the elbows to the wrists, his legs following shortly after.

"GAAAARGH!" they both shouted, writhing on the ground in pain, the stumps of their limbs sizzling from the extreme heat that had mutilated them. Through the blinding pain he barely managed to comprehend just how unprepared they were for this situation. The power of a properly sustained Heroic Spirit wasn't something a human being could or should face, regardless of being a battle experienced Magus.

"Worms are meant to crawl in the dirt, so crawl," the Servant snarled before turning her attention to the man in her arms, muttering spell after spell to heal his wounds. So much for escaping while she was too busy attending her Master. They weren't going to go anywhere on their own anymore.

Forget that. They just weren't going to go anywhere at all. Trapped and wounded beyond recovery in another Magus' territory and at the mercy of an enraged Servant, these were no doubt their final moments. At least… at least he would be near the only person he cared about.

Slowly, he dragged himself toward the fallen form of his wife, ignoring the pain he was in. Jin was probably thinking the same because she was slowly making her way toward him. They had almost closed the distance when they froze, spell bound and completely unable to move.

"If you think I'll allow you will to find comfort in each other, you're sorely mistaken," the woman hissed at them, not having stopped treating her Master as she did so. "Your last moments in this world will be nothing but pain, I assure you."

Unable to move and unable to speak, the soon to be dead Magus could only stare at his wife without even telling her a comforting word. No… he could not tolerate that. Death was something he had learned to live with, but to be so close to the love of his life and unable to hold her… it was the worst possible torture imaginable.

* * *

><p>Medea sighed in relief. The bleeding had been reduced a great deal, and as such Shirou's life was no longer in peril. Admittedly, healing wasn't her forte. Bewitching, ensnaring, manipulating and killing were her fields of expertise. Saving lives was something she usually did just to postpone an enemy's death long enough to torture him to her heart's content. Regardless of that, her ability with spells had no equal, and she was therefore confident that she could heal him completely given enough time.<p>

In spite of that, he probably wouldn't be able to walk for a few days, and even then he would be in great pain every time he was conscious. She could of course lessen his burden, but she couldn't remove it completely without interfering with the healing process.

To think that he had to suffer like this because of her… she would make sure to revisit his pains on the culprits by a factor of one thousand.

"You over there," she shouted at the pale and trembling police officer that had been completely ignored in the past few moments.

"W-what?" he yelped. His terror wasn't all that surprising. Actually it was, but in the opposite sense than she would have expected. For someone suddenly thrown into the world of Magecraft and in the presence of a superior entity such as her, he was remarkably in control of his emotions.

"Help me carry Shirou to his room," she demanded.

"Uh," the man stuttered, obviously not particularly interested in getting any closer to her after witnessing what she could do at full power. "Right."

Somehow finding his courage he ran in her direction, shooting a glance at the fallen duo that was a mix of curiosity, disgust and pity, with disgust being the most prominent one.

He was halfway to her when a voice echoed loudly from all directions at once.

**"****_Fervor, mei sanguis!"_**

A blob of silvery liquid splattered on the ground and coiled around the cop as well as the fallen Magi, dragging the three of them inside it.

"Guah-" the office had time say in protest before he was swallowed entirely by the silver mass.

Medea promptly leaped back with Shirou still in her arms. Just a glance told her what kind of Mystic Code she was against, but she wasn't about to underestimate an opponent right now. Securing Shirou was her only priority.

The Mystic Code didn't attack but rather it moved backward with surprising speed, taking its three prisoners inside along for the ride. So the two worms had backup after all. Did the fool think they could escape her? That he could avoid her wrath any more than his foolish companions could? Such arrogance was already worthy of death in her eyes.

_"Wait, Servant of the Spell,"_ the disembodied male voice said before she could do anything. _"I'm not your enemy."_

"Empty words from a coward that doesn't show his face," she retorted angrily, eyeing her surroundings warily and building up the Prana for three high level spells to be unleashed at a moment's notice. At the first hint of danger she was ready to vaporize the entire neighborhood.

_"I'm not suicidal, Caster. I know better than to show my face around a Servant."_

"You seem to have at least a modicum of intelligence compared to your friends," she conceded, though anyone who heard could tell that she hardly being appreciative. "What do you want?"

_"To retrieve these two fools that disregarded my orders to not attack you and your Master, and to determine if they have set up some other plan behind my back."_

"Do you expect me to believe you aren't involved with their actions?" she demanded imperiously.

_"Believe what you wish. I hardly have any proof to convince you of my intentions. I'll just take these two and leave. I'll make sure they never cross your path again, even if they were fool enough to attempt something at your expense after your display."_

"You will do no such thing," Medea replied coldly. "The only option I'm inclined to grant you is thus: you flee by yourself or die along with them. Thinking about it, I don't think I will allow you even that choice."

_"I was afraid you'd say so,"_ the hidden Magus sighed. _"That's why I took a hostage."_

On cue, Dojima's face appeared from the liquid sphere lying at the opposite end of the courtyard.

"What the hell is -gh," he managed to choke out before being submerged again.

"You should have found a better bargaining chip," Medea scoffed. "I don't even know that man's name or his reasons to help."

_"Maybe you don't, but your Master seemed to care enough about him to save his life, and even if he didn't I hardly believe that he would so easily sacrifice a bystander just to sate a grudge. Are you going to disregard your Master's wishes so blatantly?"_

"And if I did?" she challenged. He might have been right about her not wanting to upset Shirou by killing an ally… but what Shirou didn't know wouldn't harm him. The gall of this man who thought he could manipulate her of all people angered her to no end.

_"Ah, well," _the Magus clicked his tongue. _"If you did something like that and killed me nonetheless, then I'm afraid that there would be no one left alive to prevent the news of the Magus Killer having a son in Fuyuki from spreading at the Clock Tower. I'd think that with so many Magi just waiting to get back at Emiya Kiritsugu through his adoptive son, this place would be swarmed in less than a week. Not to mention all the Enforcers that would come asking questions should I fail to report back soon. That being said, your Master is in dire need of extensive treatment lest you want him to be a cripple for the rest of his life."_

"…" Medea didn't say anything. She had already allowed too many things to go wrong because of her anger. Regardless of the truth behind this unknown person's words, there wasn't much she could do without endangering Shirou's life. To think that she would have to let these people go after what they had done enraged her to no end.

"Very well," she conceded coldly. "But know that there isn't a place to hide from me in the entire world. I will find you and I will make my displeasure known."

_"There won't be a need for that, I assure you. Before this entire mess happened, I had intended to approach your Master with a deal, but my elders had a bone to pick with Emiya Kiritsugu and took action behind my back. If it's agreeable, then we shall meet in a week's time to discuss this like civil people, as it should have been from the beginning."_

"Are you foolish enough to show yourself before me again?" Medea asked as her brow arched.

_"I do have little choice in the matter," _the Magus said, sounding genuinely regretful. She could not tell whether that was due to fear for his life or some other emotion. _"I still need to acquire what I wanted from your Master in the first place."_

"What is that you want from Shirou that's worthy enough to risk your life?" she demanded to know. Ignorance was a weakness she couldn't afford at this point in time.

"_Vincent Guilford's Rule of Blood_," came the carefully measured reply.

"…" Medea didn't answer with words, but the temperature around her dropped considerably. The thought that all of this had happened because of her former Master served only to fuel her resentment even further. Perhaps sensing her cold rage, the nameless Magus hastily proceeded to clarify.

"_Don't misunderstand me, if I hadn't been ordered to acquire it I would have nothing to do with anything that man had laid his hands on."_

"Regardless of what your intentions are, what makes you think my Master would part with such a valuable and dangerous thing such as that. What do you have to offer in exchange?"

_"Understand this, Caster, Rule of Blood is the recipient of a Sealing Designation from the Association. The Clock Tower will go to great lengths to bring it back. So long as it's in possession of your Master, he will have a horde of Magi coming after him. The sooner he gets rid of it, the better off he is."_

"That doesn't answer my question. What do you have to offer?"

_"I'm willing to seal all knowledge regarding your Master's existence, and I offer my sponsorship should he decide to join the Association in the future… as well as my experience as Master of Servant Rider in the course of the Fourth War, of course."_

While Medea was actually surprised by the presence of a Master of the previous war, she didn't show it in any manner. She calculated the worth of this person's offer versus the risk of letting him and the other two leave alive as well as her thirst for retribution. Ultimately, it was her need to give Shirou a more serious round of treatment that tipped the scale in his favor.

"Very well," she conceded begrudgingly, "but know that if you were to double cross us you will spend the rest of your existence in pain the likes of which you have never experienced before. Do I make myself clear?"

_"Quite,"_ he agreed gravely. _"Here, as a gesture of good will."_

The blob at the opposite end of the garden… blobbed, and a moment after a very startled police officer was shot out screaming…

"Woooahh- ghk!"

… and ended up rolling on the ground several times, reaching a stop only at Medea's feet.

"Fucking alien probes," he coughed with some difficulty. "I'm too old for this shit."

_"With that out of the way, I'll take my leave. You'll hear from me in a week time, as agreed."_ Without waiting for further acknowledgement on her part, the Mystic Code leaped away, taking the maimed Magi along with it, disappearing beyond the wall and out of the Bounded Field.

Medea sighed and turned to the house.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom near the entrance," she told the man who was still trying to stand back on his feet. "Fetch it and bring it to me."

"But…"

"Make haste," she said, completely disregarding his protests before he even properly formulated them, "and don't even think about escaping. My Master might care for your wellbeing, but if you betray us then I will kill you were you stand. Now go."

"Ah, whatever," the man said dejectedly. "I give up. This night can't get any weirder anyway."

For a moment Medea thought she would have to give him a painful incentive to get him moving, but he appeared to have made up his mind and moved in the direction of the bathroom. All she had to do now was lay down Shirou and continue healing his wounds as much as she could.

* * *

><p>Dojima's ability to think rationally had been lost sometime long before during that insane night, and he was now moving mostly on autopilot. He had seen a lot of crazy his in line of work, from the stupidest pranks gone slightly wrong to some of the most atrocious murders a person could imagine.<p>

His experience had made him more or less unable to be shaken by anything, or so he thought, while adrenaline was pumping through his body. Not anymore. The amount of out of this world shit he had seen in the span of a handful of minutes had completely broken his perception of what was possible and what wasn't, and he was having a hard time coming to terms with this new development.

So he let his instinct guide him, as he usually did when there was no time to think. The boy was wounded badly, and they should have taken him to a hospital as fast as they could. He saw the extent of his injuries, especially the one on his back. It would be a miracle if the boy could ever walk again. His days as a vigilante were over.

Or were they? He had seen some incredible bullshit in one night, and the way that woman had stopped his bleeding by… what was that? Magic. Yeah, magic did seem to fit the bill more than aliens did.

And yet the woman felt alien to him. She had this… overwhelming presence that seemed to make breathing more difficult, as if the air had become suddenly thicker after the boy did… what it was that he had done.

Yeah, Dojima was way out his depth, but he would not remain like that for long.

Having reached the bathroom, he ransacked the first aid kit under the sink and hastily made his way back. He didn't know where the boy's room was, but he just had to follow the increasing pressure of the woman's presence to know that he was on the right way. Of course, the strange lights flashing out of an open door were like literal neon signs pointing the way.

When he reached the source of the lights, he peered inside and saw the wounded boy lying on his back while the woman's hand hovered above his sickening injury. Her lips quickly muttered words he couldn't discern, and her hands flashed through several colors. Dojima held his breath as he watched Shirou's flesh slowly regenerating, starting from deep within his injury and slowly reaching for the surface.

Surprisingly, the woman stopped before the process was complete, using the back of her hand to clear the sweat from her forehead before she slowly turned her patient onto his stomach to repeat the process on his back.

This wound was far longer if less deep, however that didn't mean it was any less serious. The gash on his back went from his right shoulder in a diagonal line all the way to where his left kidney was. His muscles were cut horribly, along with a few of his ribs and most certainly his spine.

Without proper medical help, that would quickly become a lethal wound, but it appeared that this woman, this… Witch could deal with such things in ways he couldn't even begin to fathom.

It took her fifteen minutes to get the process done. Fifteen excruciating minutes during which his bones were snapped back into place and muscles were sewn back together seamlessly. Only an ugly red scar remained of his previous injury.

As she finished she let out a sigh that mirrored the relief on her face. It lasted just a few moments before she realized his presence and sharply turned to look at him.

A different kind of pressure loomed over Dojima. The closest thing he could relate it to in his mind was having a gun pointed at his temple by a very unstable individual. She was undoubtedly pondering if it would be better to dispose of him where he stood as she had promised she would have had he not complied with her demand, or if there was more value to his life than initially estimated.

To his credit, Dojima did not flinch under her intense scrutiny, nor did he stepp back under the pressure. He held his ground and met her stare with all of his willpower. If this were the moment of his death, then he would face it like a man.

"You didn't run," she said as if she was surprised by his behavior, even though it was she who had threatened him with death if he had done so.

"It's not my style to run when somebody needs my help," he retorted as if to remind her that he had not run even before when he was faced with things he didn't know, but met them where he stood.

"Fair enough," she acquiesced with a nod, the pressure disappearing as quickly as it had arrived.

"How is he?" he asked, finally stepping into the room and sitting on the ground on the opposite side of Shirou. She didn't remove her gaze from him for a single moment.

"He will be fine in a matter of days," she told him evenly. "Though he will probably be in pain most of the time until he heals completely. Have you brought the bandages I asked you?"

Dojima handed them over and watched with interest as she took a strange vial out of her cloak and soaked the bandages with its content. She then proceeded to wrap them all around his torso before setting him on his back to let him rest, seemingly peacefully.

For a moment, no one said anything. The woman simply kept staring at the unconscious boy with a look in her eye that could only be called… huh. Dojima wasn't sure how to call it. Caring? Worry? Elation? Her expressions seemed to shift subtly every now and then as her hand idly moved a strand of hair away from the boy's forehead.

"Say," he begun warily, causing her to look at him again with annoyance now on her features, "what are you people?"

The woman shook her head as she said, "This entire night wouldn't be enough to explain it in a way that would make sense to you. … What's so funny?"

"Nothing…," Dojima replied stifling a chuckle but the humor dissipated quickly as she narrowed her eyes dangerously. His tone rapidly sobered. "Sorry. It's just that you said exactly the same thing he told me a few weeks ago when I asked him what the hell was going on in this city."

"So you do know my Master," she said.

_Master_. Dojima filed away that word for later. It was the second time he'd heard this woman use it to refer to Emiya. Had he been the kind of person whose head tended to land in the proverbial gutter, the connotation of that word would have been definitely sexual, but he was better than that.

"Sort of," he agreed. "As Archer, he asked my help some time ago on a case he was working on. Took me a while to figure out his real name."

"You were keeping him under surveillance," she noted and the air around her seemed to drop in temperature. "And all those weapons you have brought to his house. You…"

"Hey, that was purely for self-defense," he somehow retorted somehow in spite of feeling again as if he were being kept at gunpoint. "I didn't know what the hell was going on; still don't by the way, and I'm fairly sure somebody messed with my memories the last time I staked out this house because I have a black out during which my car magically travelled over fifty kilometers. What would you have done in my place?"

The pressure seemed to relent as he explained himself, her head tilting to the side slightly.

"Memory modification? Hold still."

She reached out with a glowing fingertip to his forehead, tapping it gently.

"The hell are you… -GAH!"

Dojima recoiled. Previously locked memories assaulted his conscious mind: Emiya's house at night, a crazy chase through the streets of Fuyuki and the out of town; an explosion somewhere in the forest, a loud scream among the trees; an unconscious girl on the ground with a twin tailed girl standing by, her eyes peering into his own, dizziness and confusion washing over him; moving as if pulled by invisible strings, and then nothing.

Dojima used a hand to support himself or else he would have slumped to the side. The other was busy keeping his mouth shut, lest he vomit from the sudden sense of nausea and vertigo that had washed over him.

"Do you remember now?" she asked with the kind of voice of someone who already knew the answer.

"Yeah," he replied with a foul taste in his mouth. "I remember a mansion in the forest, a girl by the name of Tohsaka Rin and her interest in my knowledge about Magic. That's what you do, isn't it? Magic."

"Magecraft," she replied as if there were even a difference between the two terms, "but essentially yes, that is correct."

Dojima leaned backward, resting his suddenly heavier shoulders against the wall. Magic, Magecraft, whatever; how was he supposed to deal with this crap? He was just a normal human cop. It was no wonder the kid had any idea how to explain the subject to him in a way that made sense.

Fuck, even if he'd told him outright he would have called bullshit on him and demanded to know the truth. Well, at least they weren't alien invaders or anything among those lines. Wizards… and according to Emiya, there was an entire organization of them that kept things hushed up when something really fucked up happened in Fuyuki.

Damn, that was so far out of league that he didn't know how to measure the distance from him to the problem. Archer was right in saying that he had no way to protect himself and his family from these things with powers and abilities he could neither match nor predict.

And this boy, this… man had been fighting by himself all of this time against these forces. Granted, even if he had the same supernatural abilities it couldn't be easy to deal with a situation like this, Dojima felt

He was ashamed to have even favored the thought of running away, of putting several hundred miles between him and this apparently cursed city, of leaving a fifteen-year-old… man doing all of the dirty work. No, there was no way he could do something so against his nature. Not a chance in hell.

Slowly he turned his eyes from the unconscious man to the woman that was still eyeing him in an appraising manner.

"How can I help?" he finally asked. Her head tilted further in response

"Why do you think you can help at all?" the woman asked, scorn and curiosity present in equal amounts in her tone. "By your own admission, you had no clue about the true happenings of this city. Why would you want to help to begin with? The events of this evening weren't enough to dissuade you from poking your nose where it doesn't belong? If I were you, I wouldn't want to have anything to do with all of this."

"Well, you aren't me, are you, lady?" he snapped. "I'm asking you because I don't know how to help and I want to help because I'm a cop, you hear? Keeping people safe is my damn job, and it's apparent that I haven't been doing it nearly well enough as of late and he," he pointed at Emiya, "has been picking up the slack for everyone without anyone even knowing it. It has to end. Now!"

"Well," the woman said after a long moment of pondering, "at least you seem to be in the right spirit. Most men would have broken much sooner when faced with such life-shaking discoveries, but you have handled yourself remarkably well in the face of unexpected danger. My Master seems to trust you at least in some measure, and you appear to have a good head on your shoulders, which is probably the most important thing for anyone to have."

"Then...," he began, only to be interrupted by her once more.

"Quite frankly, I don't know what measure of assistance you can offer under the present circumstances, and even if I did I'm not comfortable in making agreements without the consent of my Master," she said with a note of finality. "I was already forced to do so once, and I have no intention of doing it again the very same day."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Dojima said, sighing in frustration. "What then, should I just come back tomorrow? Is he even going to be awake by then?"

"My Master is strong," she confidently. "I believe that he will be conscious again by tomorrow morning, but it will be better if you were to come back in the evening. There are a bit too many people in here during the day. It would be complicated to explain to them the situation."

"Good," he said standing up, "I'll do that."

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you that you must not speak of what transpired tonight with anyone. The repercussions if you don't will be tremendous for everyone involved… but mostly for you."

Dojima knew how to recognize a warning and a threat when he heard one and that sentence definitely qualified as both.

"You're right, there was no need for you to say it," he told her, dismissing her concerns in an almost casual manner. Then he turned and walked away, his mind still caught in wonder by the events he had just witnessed. Suddenly, he stopped and turned to the woman that was still watching him.

"I never got your name. I'm Dojima Ryutaro."

"You may call me Megissa," she replied politely before returning to her… Master's side.

With those last words spoken, Dojima left the Emiya household with even more questions than when he'd first arrived. That seemed to be a trend since he moved to Fuyuki. With a shake of the head, he thought, maybe this town was really cursed.

* * *

><p>Volumen Hydragyrum slipped inside the hotel room's window that had been wisely left open beforehand, while Waver came in from the door. A small, perhaps needless precaution, but there was no need to have the hotel's employees wonder when and how he got back in.<p>

Slowly, the Mystic Code placed the maimed Magi on the wide bed and then retreated to a corner of the room, ready to act at a moment's notice. With the ease of someone who had seen many wounds, Waver started to treat them as best as he could. He had very little ability with healing Thaumaturgy, but luckily their wounds had no remnants of Magecraft in them. The wounds might have been caused by some very advanced Magecraft, but ultimately it affected only the body and not also the mind or the soul.

Of course, this was a small blessing considering the Cheungs' lives as mercenaries were now certainly over. The Magus community had some very advanced prosthetics that could allow any handicapped Magus to live more or less normally, but nothing that could handle the extended strain of Magecraft enhanced combat. Unless they drastically changed their approach to battle, their career was over.

Sighing, he finished treating the woman and was about to move onto her husband when he noticed that he was awake and staring intently at his wife.

"Mr. Waver… how is she?" Jun asked, voice straining to be level.

"She'll live," he replied evenly. "The extent of her wounds is limited to what you can see, just as yours are."

As if noticing his condition only after Waver brought it up, Jin looked at the empty space were his limbs once were. After a moment he sighed wearily, but gave no other sign of distress.

"You're taking this fairly well," Waver pointed out.

"I might be a mercenary, but I'm still a Magus, Mr. Waver. Accepting death is our very first rule, after all. In proportion, even grave injuries are really acceptable results for something gone so horribly wrong."

"I suppose that is true," he agreed.

"I don't understand one thing, though," he continued, frowning in confusion more than pain. "Why did you come to our aid after we so blatantly ignored your wishes, and especially when it was apparent that the enemy was the most powerful type of familiar?"

"By all means I should have let you reap what you sow," Waver began, "but I'm not the kind of person to simply leave people under my responsibility to die when I can do something to prevent it."

"Under… your responsibility?"

"Of course. You have been hired by the Archibalds, haven't you?"

"But not by you," Jun pointed out. "If we had been working for you, we wouldn't have acted against your instructions."

"I know that, idiot" Waver replied snappishly, being his usual short-tempered self. "If you had betrayed me, then there was no way I would have pulled your sorry asses out of the fire. I am the current head of the Archibald family, and just like you were honor-bound to carry out the orders you have been given, I am honor-bound to take responsibility for what those morons told you to do."

As Jun stared at him incredulously, Waver continued, "What? Do you think I would have even bothered coming here to Fuyuki to solve a mess that they started if I didn't think like that? Like it or not I am Lord El-Melloi, with all the advantages and disadvantages that come with the title. Granted, I haven't seen much of the advantages lately… or ever, for that matter."

Jun let out a pained chuckle. "I must apologize. I have severely misjudged your character, Mr. Waver."

"Yes, well, you're hardly the first one, and most certainly won't be the last." Waver rubbed his eyes wearily. "It can be an advantage in the right circumstances… but a pain the rest of the time."

"I can only imagine," came the weak if amused reply of the wounded Magus.

Waver worked in silence for a few minutes, during which Jin kept looking at his wife beside him.

"Mr. Waver…"

"What is it?" Waver snapped distractedly.

"As a Magus, I have lived without fearing my own death even once. I was more than prepared to lose my life during any assignment, but I realize now that was not ready to sacrifice anything else. Tonight, you saved the one thing I was not willing to lose. I am in your debt, more deeply than you could possibly imagine. For this reason, until the day I have saved something of equal value to you, I'm in your service."

"That's –"

"And I as well," Jin agreed, without opening her eyes, making both men wonder how long she had been awake.

"- completely unnecessary," he completed his statement, which had turned from a vehement protest to a resigned sigh. "You're not going to just let this go, are you?"

"Debts must always be repaid," Jun said firmly, his gaze not wavering in the slightest. At his side his wife nodded just as firmly.

"… I bet he's laughing his ass off right now," Waver said, shaking his head.

"Who?" the wounded Magi asked.

"Just another guy that never listened to a thing I said. The kind of person who would find this situation to be entirely too amusing," he said as he rubbed his eyes wearily. "Nevermind. I accept your pledge; that's what he would do in my place I think. Be warned, though: I don't go easy on anyone."

"We will be ready for anything," they both promised.

"Just worry about getting back... in health," he wanted to say 'back on your feet', but it would have sounded like a very poor joke at the expenses of the recently crippled Magi. His near faux pas didn't go unnoticed, as said Magus let out a pained snort of amusement.

Waver just shook his head and continued treating their wounds. Things just kept getting more and more complicated. What had he done to deserve this?

* * *

><p>For the rest of the night Medea sat by her Master's side as he slumbered and recovered. With the urgency of treating his wounds finally passed, she had managed to reach a state of relaxation, or a close imitation of it. In spite of not having to rush anything anymore, or maybe because of it, she now had the time to assess the situation more properly, starting with herself.<p>

She was now bound by a Contract, the deepest form of connection that any sort Familiar could have with someone else. It was both a form of bonding and of binding at the same time, and something she had grown to loathe fiercely in the past. It was, of course, because of her original Master: that despicable excuse for a human being who Shirou had fortunately removed from the world of the living.

However, Guilford was entirely different from Shirou, and that was why Medea was troubled. While she wouldn't have had any trouble in backstabbing the former, she couldn't even begin to think about doing the same with the latter. It was that conviction that was exactly the source of her worries, further shown by the trembling in her hands.

To think that he had almost lost his life because of and for her caused her to feel mixed emotions: elation, for having found someone who genuinely cared for her and paralyzing fear at the thought of nearly losing that same person.

This vortex of emotions swelled within her, making her unable to plan her future moves. The only thing she was certain of was that she wouldn't allow anyone to harm her Master, not even if it meant her life.

Resting her upper body against the wall, Medea slowly fell into a deep sleep, still holding his hand, which now bore the sign of their promise.

* * *

><p><em>The void had no color, no sound, no smell. There weren't such unnecessary concepts like up and down, left and right. Weight was a foreign concept just like temperature, and the flow of time was a subjective notion at best. There was utterly and completely nothing around.<em>

_Nothing… except her._

_She floated, for a lack of a better word, for an immeasurable amount of time. Alone with her thoughts, she could only replay what had happened over and over again._

_She had heard a voice calling to her, a familiar call that had happened before. She followed it through that incomprehensible… _swirl_ that had first welcomed her when was sent hurling through space and time to obtain what she had been promised in exchange for her services. She had just stepped over the threshold of the physical realm for the tiniest fraction of time before her connection was suddenly snapped. She fell backward, remaining stuck in a place that was neither here or there and neither now or then._

_She could only wait patiently for something or someone to reach out for her from either side sooner or later. To her benefit, she had plenty of patience and absolutely all the time in the world._

_And so she waited, waited, waited, waited…_

* * *

><p>The fire was everywhere around her. It stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. It burned more than anything she had ever experienced; yet it chilled her to the bones. The crackling of the flames and the voices of the dying were like familiar curses in her ears, condemning her for the simple sin of being alive.<p>

No, they weren't cursing her. She was but a spectator in all this, looking at events that didn't belong to her no matter how familiar they might have felt.

The curses were directed toward the small, red-haired boy hair that kept advancing unsteadily on shaky legs. His eyes were dull, void of anything but utter hopelessness. They were so different, yet she could never mistake them and her heart clenched because she could do nothing at all, not even look away.

Under her horrified stare he kept advancing, growing increasingly weaker under the weight of the curses that flooded him from all sides, as well as from the black sun that shone in the distance: it hovered ominously above an equally black tower filled with things beyond the scope of reality.

It was a sight that made no sense, even to her who had witnessed things that humans could not comprehend. It was something so nefarious that she couldn't stand to look at it, yet she didn't have the ability to look away either.

It burned and it poured its wicked contents onto the last living thing beneath it, crushing him under a burden that no single person could or should ever bear. It came as no surprise when he finally fell, exhausted and spent, resigned to being consumed like everyone else around him.

She could do nothing for him except weep silently, praying for something, anything to save that precious life which she had come to treasure. For once, her prayers were answered in the form of a man who looked more dead than alive, rushing to his side.

The man's eyes looked equally spent and tired as the boy now beside him, but in his hands shined a light, _Gold and Blue_ that poured all over and inside the boy, forcing away the darkness that was about to claim him.

The boy looked at the man who was both smiling and crying for the small life he had managed to save, an act that somehow had saved him in return. The boy fell peacefully asleep with a clear question in his eyes…

_'Could I smile like that as well if I saved someone else too?'_

* * *

><p>When Shirou opened his eyes again he immediately wished he hadn't. He was in pain everywhere. His back felt like it was on fire and his stomach felt like it had been ripped apart.<p>

… Which wasn't that much far from the truth considering last night…

...!

Pain was immediately forgotten as his mind recalled what had happened the previous evening. His eyes immediately wandered the room in search of Medea… and he immediately relaxed as he found her at his side, fast asleep against the wall with her hand firmly wrapped around his.

She looked unharmed, though she seemed to have cried in her sleep if the tears still running down her cheeks were any indication. Was she having a nightmare?

His attempts to wake her up by calling her name turned out to be an exercise in futility, as his mouth was so dry he couldn't even say a word. With more effort than he had ever thought would be needed to perform such a simple action, he squeezed her hand a couple of times.

She woke up almost in slow motion with a dazed look in her eyes, but she immediately snapped to full consciousness when she met his eyes.

"Shirou!" She nearly shouted. "How are you feeling?"

He mouthed the word for _'water'_ in response. He wasn't in any condition to make elaborate sentences without wetting his mouth a little.

"I'll be right back," she promised before running out of his room and returning a moment later with a glass full of the much-needed liquid. She helped him lift his head a little and he drank in small sips.

"Better?" she asked worriedly.

"Yeah," he croaked out in a hoarse voice. "Thanks. How are you?"

"You should worry more about yourself, you fool," she frowned. " I don't have a scratch on me, thanks to you."

"Good… good," he said, almost to himself. "What about those other people, and Dojima-san? What happened to-" she silenced him with a finger gently placed on his lips.

"Hush. I've taken care of everything; don't worry. Focus on resting and recovering properly. I treated your wounds as best as I could, but they were extremely serious injuries," she continued, brow creased in worry. "It will take a few days for the pain to subside and for you to walk again properly."

"Guess I'll be skipping school for a while then," he joked, though he clearly was in pain.

"You worry about the silliest things," she reprimanded with a smile. "Let me take care of everything, would you? I'll sort things out with Taiga and Sakura if they come by."

"Hmm… 'kay," he agreed, conscious of his current state of weakness. He trusted her to deal with anything that might come up.

"Do you feel like eating something? I can prepare at least some white rice and some chicken broth."

"Sure, but… you should get yourself cleaned up," Shirou said in mild consternation. "You have blood all over you."

She looked down as if noticing her current state for the first time. Shirou's blood had dripped all over her the previous night, but she'd had far more important things to worry about than maintaining her appearance. However, she looked reluctant to leave his side for longer than strictly necessary.

"I'll be fine," he told her jokingly, smile strained as if reading her thoughts. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Your sense of humor still needs a lot of work, Shirou," she deadpanned, though she did seem to be relieved by his ability to shrug off his condition. "Are you sure you'll be fine?"

He nodded and she stood, turning to leave but stopping at the door.

"Thank you, Shirou. For everything," she told him without turning around, her voice laced with more raw emotions than he had ever heard coming from her.

"Anytime… Medea."

* * *

><p>On the way to the bathroom, Medea used part of her barely restored Prana reserves to put the courtyard back in order. The place looked like a war zone, and there was no way of hiding that from Taiga without using Magecraft. It wasn't that much of a strain for her, but since she was still pretty exhausted the prospect of taking a bath became all the more welcome.<p>

Soaking in the warm water was a blissful experience that she would have liked to prolong even more. But of course, she had to take care of Shirou, which took precedence over her own comfort. Hastily drying and redressing herself in clean clothes, Medea quickly vacated the bathroom and made her way toward the kitchen.

… Only to almost bump into Sakura as she did so.

"Ah, Megissa-san. Good morning," the purple haired girl greeted politely. "It's been a while."

"Sakura. How nice to see you." As if! That was the worst time ever for her to visit: with Shirou wounded and unable to move. She had to get rid of her immediately. "Sadly, Shirou-kun is bedridden with a fever. I'm afraid he's got a bad case of the flu. I don't think he will be able to attend school for a few days at least."

"Oh, no," Sakura said, dismay and concern in her voice. "Did you call the doctor?"

"Yes," Medea lied smoothly. "He prescribed him some medicine and told him to rest as much as he could. Shirou is always working so hard. It's no wonder he has fallen sick."

"You're right," she smiled, if a little worriedly. "Maybe this will teach him to take things easier for a change."

"Somehow I doubt it. Say," she said, hoping to change the subject. "I was about to prepare him something to eat. Would you mind helping me with that?"

"No, not at all," Sakura said with a bright smile at the idea. "It's been a while since I last cooked for him. Besides, with him being ill somebody has to fed Fujimura-sensei or else she's going to be grumpy for the rest of the day."

"Who exactly is going to be grumpy, Sakura-chan?" an ominous voice filled with dread asked from behind her.

"Eeep! Fujimura-sensei! How long have you been there?"

"Long enough," the teacher answered with a frown. "So Shirou is sick _again_?"

"Yes," Medea replied evenly, not missing the emphasis Taiga had put on the last word. Last time Shirou had "been sick" he had later been found out with a foreign woman in his home. "I'm afraid it's really serious this time."

"I'll be the judge of that," she promised as she stormed past the other woman. "Shirou!"

She reached his room in a flash, and with no courtesy whatsoever she slammed the door open.

* * *

><p>Taiga's mind immediately registered a number of things as soon as she laid her eyes on her ward: Shirou in his futon, completely covered up to his neck; his deadly pale complexion; and his face covered in sweat.<p>

She immediately felt bad for doubting him, but the feeling lasted a mere moment as her eyes caught sight of the first aid box in the corner of the room, as well as a roll of bandages laying inconspicuously right beside it. That was most certainly not the standard product to take care of the flu.

"Hrmm?" Shirou groaned, cracking his eyes open. "Taiga? What's wrong? Are you hungry? Sorry… can't cook today. Not… feeling well."

She was about to call him out on his bullshit; she wanted to so badly, but Sakura had just reached the room as well so she refrained from commenting. She knew that Shirou wasn't sick at all. No, this was probably the result of one of his reckless nighttime activities, but it was better not to drag Sakura into the argument she was building up toward.

"Yes, well. Make sure to rest properly. We're going to have a nice little chat about the way you keep getting sick lately as soon as you get better. No wriggling your way out of it, believe you me. And you," her head snapped in Megissa's direction, "make sure to take care of him properly, understood?"

Surprisingly, the purple haired woman didn't flinch at all under her fiery glare.

"That goes without saying," she replied firmly. "I'll be by his side all the time."

Taiga kept glaring at her for another few moments before she stormed once more past her and toward the exit.

"Ano, Fujimura-sensei. Aren't you going to eat breakfast?" Sakura asked uncertainly.

"I'm not hungry," she said without turning back. It was heresy even to her own ears, but she really didn't feel like eating, worried as she was for Shirou's well-being It was high time she put her foot down on his shenanigans once and for all.

* * *

><p>Shirou sighed inwardly after Medea left with Sakura to get breakfast ready. Even in his weakened state, he hadn't missed the comprehension in Taiga's eyes. She knew, somehow, that he was up to something at night and that he was not sick at all. Well, it wasn't like he was cornered or anything like that. He could easily make her forget the things she didn't need to know, but unless he was willing to repeat the process every time it came up he would be better served coming clean and telling her how things really were.<p>

Of course, he's never thought he could keep under her radar forever. She was very observant when she wanted to be. No oblivious dolt could possibly be a decent Kendo-ka, and Taiga was at national level as far as that sport went. Observing, understanding and anticipating were fundamental traits of those who seriously practiced any martial art. Taiga might have acted the part of a fool, but deep down she was a true martial artist and he knew he couldn't hope to avoid her indefinitely. If he wanted to move more freely, he needed to tell her everything, and hope that she would be able to handle the truth.

Frankly the thought of having Taiga know about Magecraft and the Holy Grail War chilled him to the bone, but with Magi now coming after them and the police snooping around, it was better if she were aware of the details and able to make her own choices. If she wanted to have nothing to do with him after knowing the truth, it was probably for the best.

He didn't believe in manipulating people if it could be avoided, all the more so for those who were like family to him. He was willing to resort to that course of action only if Taiga took the news badly and really freaked out, something that he couldn't allow for the sake of everyone involved.

And then there was Dojima… he didn't know what had happened with him yet, but he was fairly sure Medea hadn't killed him. He'd have to ask later… when he could keep his eyes open… for a longer…period of time.

…

* * *

><p>Sakura was reluctant to leave Shirou's house that morning. There was something wrong with him, and it was definitely more serious than some common flu. Fujimura-sensei had figured it out as well but hadn't openly addressed the issue. The only person who seemed to know more was the mysterious Megissa, if that was even her real name.<p>

Sakura wasn't blind. She didn't know what had happened, but something had definitely changed between Shirou and Megissa, at least as far as the latter was concerned: her drive and stubbornness in wanting to prepare his breakfast in spite of not being as good as Sakura was a dead giveaway.

And the final nail the coffin, Sakura knew the look on the older woman's face all too well. She saw it every day in the mirror when she was about to meet him. Yes, no matter how much it scared her to admit it, she was fairly sure that Megissa's feelings for Shirou were the same as hers.

And she hated it, she hated, she hated it, she hated _her_!

Why did she have to appear and take him away from her? Sakura was there first. What right did Megissa have to be allowed to know his secrets while she was left out? It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair _at all_!

**_If only she just disappeared…._**

No! No, she shouldn't have thoughts like that. Regardless of the circumstances, Sakura knew that she had no claim over him. Sullied as she was, it was better if she didn't get any closer to him than she already was. She knew that better than anyone, and yet…

… and yet she couldn't stop thinking of him, nor she could stop this black feeling from surging into her chest every time she contemplated the thought of someone taking him away from her.

What was she supposed to do to put this black flame to rest once and for all?

* * *

><p>Medea returned to Shirou's room half an hour later with a light breakfast on a tray. It had taken her some effort to persuade Sakura to let her take care of Shirou's breakfast, something she had no intention to let anyone else take care of.<p>

Of course, the teen relented only because Medea had allowed her to prepare both lunch and something for dinner in advance as well. Medea didn't know her reasons, but she could now definitely understand the girl better where the resident redhead was concerned. Maybe he had saved her somehow as well?

She had the distinct impression that the younger woman had something…dark in common with her, as well, though what it was she couldn't tell. What was with Shirou and his propensity in helping tormented souls, anyway?

… She knew what it was. She had seen it with her own eyes after all, just like he had done with her. The fire and the curses she dreamt about had scarred and forged him at the same time.

Shirou knew pain, he knew hopelessness, and despair. But instead of being crushed by it or selfishly clinging to it and rejecting everyone else, he turned the knowledge of those feelings into a driving force to help others.

He might have said he was a sinner like her, but there was just no comparison. He used that nefarious experience to make himself into a better person, while she had closed her heart and ruthlessly walked the path of betrayal.

Well, no more. Even if it was just one person in the world, it was one person she would not betray. It was one person she would support through thick and thin at all costs just as he had done with her, and maybe… maybe it would be just what she needed for her to revaluate herself at some point. She didn't know, and it didn't matter either. For once, she could do what was right for no other reason than that it was the right thing to do.

It was funny…just a few short weeks before she would have laughed at the thought. She would have laughed even louder if she had known that such a change was caused by the intervention of an over-idealistic Magus of fifteen years.

Amazing how life still managed to surprise her from time to time, and for once not in an unpleasant manner.

… She could definitely live with that.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>Sevant's s stats page:<p>

**Servant Caster: Medea of Colchis – Master: Emiya Shirou (age: 15)**

Alignment: True Neutral

Strenght: E

Endurance: D

Agility: C

Magical Energy: A+

Luck: B++

Noble Phantasm: C

Class Abilities: 

Territory Creation: A

Item Creation: EX (note: the ability is still limited by the quality of the base materials of the current era, but she no longer has personal limitations in making tools imposed by her status as a Servant. Therefore her ability ranks EX because it can no longer be properly measured.)

Skills

High Speed Divine Language: A

Golden Fleece: EX

* * *

><p>Author's notes and a bit of in-universe mechanics (yeah, specifically in this order).<p>

… Why is that many people asked me if put up the last chapter fast because of In Flight and From Fake Dreams? I don't really care for what people think so I'll say this just once.

I have a single criteria for updating my stories, which is putting the new chapter up as soon as it's done and edited (sometimes even before it's edited). This is not a damn competition so I don't try to "ride" the wave of other author's popularity and whatnot. I daresay I've done well enough without squeezing an extra review or two using some dumb update strategy.

With that out of the way let's address a few issues about the last chapter and the universe in general

- The summoning ritual:

I got a lot of people telling me that since Schweinorg is Sakura's and Rin's ancestors they are the only one who can use that specific aria. I disagree. My interpretation of the term ancestor is a reference to the fact that Schweinorg is a Dead Apostle _Ancestor_ and having taken part in making the Heaven's Feel Ritual of Fuyuki, using that particular Aria is like saying "this ritual is patented." Certainly another Aria can be used, but to me that's the most appropriate one unless the prospective Master bothered making a new one by himself and it's not something that requires a couple of minutes to be done. So he went for the "Summoning Ritual for Dummies."

- Mystic Codes and Noble Phantasms:

Yes, I know that Noble Phantasms can exist in the real world as well but let's make a few things clear. Those NPs that can be still found in the world as Noble Phantasms were made as Noble Phantasms to begin with. Fragarach was made by the gods, Avalon was artifact from the Fae that is a Conceptual Weapon, a gate to the realm of the Fae and the crystallization of the wish of mankind for a world without pain. Something like that could only be a Noble Phantasm from the very beginning. Of course I'm aware that the passing of time and the gathered fame can eventually make a normal tool, a conceptual weapon or a Mystic Code into a Noble Phantasm but generally the very passing of time that grants them this enhancement destroy their physical form before they get a chance to reach that point.

- The summoning of Saber:

For those who haven't watched or read Fate/Zero I'm going to inform you that it's the Grail itself that summons the Heroic Spirit in accordance with the offered Catalyst or Magus' character. What the Magus only does if providing an anchor and an additional energy source for the Servant to exist in this plane. On a minor note, most of the sustainment of a Servant it's done by the Grail itself and that why Saber couldn't remain in this world at the end of the Fate Route (and the anime). Of course Rin, being the Prana juggernaut that she is, has more than enough power to maintain a Servant like Saber in this world by herself (though it constantly takes over 80% of her reserves to do so).

- The age of the characters and general timeline

Originally FSN took place in February of year 200X, sometime later the events of Tsukihime (if you are familiar with it, if not that's an unforgivable sin ). Shirou was 16 and in his second year of high school. The story is now about to reach the summer of "200X -1" so it's around 8 months earlier than Canon and Shirou is still 15 and in his first year. Consequentially Sakura is still in middle school and doesn't attend Shirou's school. This doesn't mean that it will take eight more months for the war to start. It will start earlier than Canon so don't breath on my neck about it. It's still a few months away, though. Deal with it.

That's all for now. I hope I made everything clear.

Many thanks to RavingScholar for yet another excellent job at editing this chapter.

See ya soon.


	22. Gears of Destiny

**Chapter 21 – Gears of Destiny**  
>(Published 04.10.2013: - Beta: RavingScholar)<p>

* * *

><p>Down in a damp and darkened basement, a creature that should have been long dead rose from a shapeless mass of worms that squirmed against each other to form a figure that was human only in appearance.<p>

Matou Zouken barely spared a glance at the blood smeared on the floor, spilled by the unsuspecting victim who had provided with its flesh and bones the means for the decaying Magus to survive a few more years. The monster in shape of a wrinkled old man gestured to his familiars to dispose of the leftovers. After a moment of wet squirming noises, nothing was left on the floor of the catacomb-like basement.

It was done just in time, as a moment later the door at the top of the stair opened with squeaking noise worthy of a haunted mansion. Matou Sakura, formerly Tohsaka, walked down the steps with the usual dull expressionless face.

She did not need to be told what to do. With practiced ease her clothes fell on the floor, revealing the porcelain-like beauty hidden beneath. In turn, that beauty concealed the nefarious and disgusting results of the Makiri's Magecraft underneath her skin. If his desire for women hadn't died long before his humanity had, Zouken might have appreciated the beauty of his adopted niece, but his feelings for her were just of pity and pride.

Pity, for while he did not care about what happened to her so long as she served her purpose he really believed that she had a life she didn't deserve; pride, for she was the pinnacle of his Magecraft and undoubtedly the best heir he could ever hope to find. Her potential in terms of Prana capacity was staggering and her willpower all the more so. Years of abuse and torment, both within and without the Workshop, didn't manage to even so much as scratch her mental defenses. As Material and as a Magus she was perfect, flawless, and Zouken had almost completely given up the idea of breaking her.

Almost.

Lately something had changed within her. The cold and emotionless doll she had made herself into in order to survive the treatment she received had begun to weaken, exposing for brief, almost nonexistent moments the person hidden behind it.

Naturally the centuries old Magus would not let such thing go unexplained and uninvestigated. He therefore sent a couple of his less noticeable familiars to monitor his most valuable possession. Imagine his surprise when he discovered that the unshakable resolve, the insurmountable barrier he had failed to break was being eroded by something as silly and common as a schoolyard crush.

Of course, he was even more surprised when he realized exactly who the object of her affection was: none other than the son of the Magus Killer, the champion of the Einzbern during the Fourth War. For months he watched over the boy, tracking his activities and his interests, suspicious that he was trying to pry the secret of his family from the unsuspecting girl.

However, after weeks of examinations he came to eliminate that possibility entirely, as the boy did not even attempt to approach the subject of Magecraft with Sakura. Perhaps he had come to the conclusion that, just like Shinji, she had no predisposition for the craft.

That specific concern aside, discovering this situation was an unexpected boon. While it was true that the boy's Magecraft was at best laughable and his reasons were absolutely not those of a Magus, he could be a valuable asset nonetheless.

For one thing, he damaged Sakura's mental fortitude just by being around her, helping Zouken to gain a foothold in her defenses that he could exploit at a later time. Most importantly, his obvious vitality and drive would ensure that the Grail would pick him as a Master when the time came, giving Zouken not only early knowledge of one of the other Masters, but also an exploitable tool thanks to his relationship with Sakura.

He was not disappointed when he later appeared to have forged an alliance with a Masterless Caster, who he knew had already been summoned thanks to his insight to the Grail System. He was also aware that there was still a long time before the Grail would reach full activation. In the meantime, he intended to strengthen his control over his tools as much as possible, starting with the closest one.

With a malicious grin that would have sent chills down the spines of even some of the most weathered Magi, Matou Zouken turned his full attention to the naked girl lying on the cold stone floor. As if responding to his intent, the worms crawled around and on her, covering every inch of visible skin and invading places that should have never been violated in such a manner.

Through the whole ordeal she didn't make so much as a noise of discomfort, and Zouken's twisted smile only grew wider.

* * *

><p>Tohsaka Rin was growing increasingly nervous. The summoning circle was drawn perfectly; she had made it from scratch over five times until it was absolutely flawless. She triple checked it before calling it a job well done and walking out to think about something else.<p>

Then, while she was relaxing someone used Magecraft in proximity of her house. She wasn't the best when it came to detecting shifts in the ambient Prana but the use had been so intense and sudden that even she managed to perceive it. However, in the short time it took her to reach a window and look outside the culprit had already left the scene.

Who was it? Caster's new Master, or maybe another prospective participant in the Grail War seeking an easy prey? She had no way to know, and her paranoia only grew because of that but she had to resist nine more days. Only nine more days until the alignement of the planets would put her in the most favorable conditions to summon her Servant. Nine more days until the odds were evened and she could finally sleep peacefully again.

Just nine more days.

* * *

><p>Shirou woke up several times during the day, and every time he cracked his eyes open Medea was at his side, busy with needle-and-thread of all things. She was putting all of her focus on some black cloth he didn't recognize, but she still turned to smile at him when she noticed he was staring at her. Each and every time he fell back asleep secure that she was safe, but even in his addled state of mind his thoughts were focused on recuperating for the coming ordeals.<p>

* * *

><p>While Shirou slept, Medea worked relentlessly. Now that the situation had reached a temporary stagnation she could pour all of her energies in preventing such a scenario from repeating. Now that both Shirou's Prana and her link to the leyline sustained her, she had more than enough energy to act at full power. Of course there wasn't much she could do while standing vigil by his side, but with her hands free she could at least invest some of her energies in creating something for her foolish, self-sacrificing Master. The memory of him taking an injury meant for her still brought a frown to her face.<p>

Oh, who was she kidding? The fact that he had thrown himself in harm's way for her sake sent chills down her spine that were both of dread and delight.

Finding a man who cared enough for her as to give up his own life was something she had not even dared to hope for. She would not give up on someone like that no matter what, and for that reason she would invest all of her ability to insure his continued well-being. She would show every insolent fool who dared to threaten her Shirou just why the Witch of Betrayal was never to be crossed.

The day passed rapidly as she worked on the first of many Mystic Codes she intended to develop in preparation for the war.

* * *

><p><strong>That evening<strong>

With great effort, Shirou stood on his feet. His stomach still burned and his back shot jolts of pain every step he took. Frankly, he would have preferred to remain in bed but this was a matter he needed to take care of immediately. He could no longer postpone it.

"Master, are you sure you should be already on your feet?" Medea asked worriedly trying to help him walk.

"Yeah," he groaned weakly. "I need the bathroom right now."

Indeed, the impelling call of nature would not be denied any longer. It might seem a ridiculous issue compared to the wound he had sustained, but the truth was that-

"Master, I could have taken care of that."

-there was no way he'd let Medea do something like that. It was embarrassing, damn it. He wasn't sure if she planned to use a simple bed pan or some complex Magecraft to solve the issue, but there was just no way he was willing to find out. He'd crawl on his damn teeth and gums before he'd allow it. Besides, it wasn't like he couldn't walk, anyway. It just hurt like hell.

"Don't call me Master," he told her bluntly, trying to change the subject but immediately realized his blunder when he saw a look of hurt flashing momentarily across her features that anyone who hadn't known her as long as he had would have missed. "I don't like the whole Master-Servant subservient relationship," he hastily clarified. "You are not a just tool to exploit."

Her hand found his arm and helped him stand straighter. "Of course not," she smiled sincerely. Silently she helped him reach his destination and he immediately closed himself inside.

A few moments later a much-relieved Shirou walked out, and with the help of Medea returned to his room. Medea brought him up to speed with regard to what happened after he had passed out the previous evening. He was glad that she managed to contain the losses and come up with a decent agreement with the Master of Rider from the fourth war. According to his father's notes the foreign Magus' name should have been Waver something, but he wasn't too sure about it. He'd have to check it out later.

The top priority now was dealing with Dojima, who said he would come back sometime that evening. That the detective had not freaked out after having been exposed to the knowledge of Magecraft was already a good thing, and the fact that he offered to help meant that Shirou had gained another ally. Dojima might not prove to be an asset as far as the Holy Grail War went, but Shirou had not given up his mission as a vigilante, only suspended it. In that regard the detective could definitely be a source of information within the police department if he truly was willing to help, which would make it easier for Shirou to slip past the eyes of the law.

Of course he had no intention of exposing Dojima to any more danger than he already was by associating with him, but there was little to no harm in having one more pair of eyes looking over the city.

As he pondered that, he let Medea change his bandages. Lost in thought as he was, it took him a moment to notice that something was odd.

Medea, who was sitting behind him as he held his arms up to facilitate the procedure, had removed the used bandages but did not seem to be moving at all. He obviously couldn't see her, and he had a hard time turning around due to his injuries. Was there something wrong? He couldn't tell, but his half-numb, half-pained back gave him an odd feeling, as if she was tracing her fingers over the length of his injury.

* * *

><p>Medea was lost in a daze.<p>

After removing Shirou's bandages she found herself staring at the ugly red scar on his back. In all likelihood it would never entirely fade, and for that reason he'd have to keep his back hidden at all times to avoid answering unwanted questions, yet he didn't seem to care at all.

Of course, compared to what they would have to go through in the future a few scars were truly a minor issue. Yet no matter how much she tried to put it in this perspective, she couldn't shake the knowledge that it was for her that he bore those signs on his body.

"Medea, is something wrong?" Shirou asked, snapping her out of her reverie. Fortunately for her, Shirou couldn't turn around or he would have seen the faint blush on her cheeks.

"No, everything is fine. Your wounds seem to be healing up properly and in a few days you should be back in shape, though I'm afraid you'll have to live with the scars. I'm sorry," she finished with a note of sorrow in her voice.

He snorted in amusement and immediately winced in pain. "That's fine. What are a few scars in comparison to a life?"

_A_ life, she noted, not _her_ life. Of course she knew from the beginning that Shirou was the kind of person that sought to help everyone, not just her. Did she have the right to be annoyed by this after taking advantage of it? Not really, because if she had to be honest with herself it was because of this reason that he wanted to save her to begin with. After all he had already given her without asking anything back, she could definitely live with not being the only person he wanted to protect.

That didn't even remotely lessen his value in her eyes. Even if there were others he cared about, he certainly was the only one for her.

Without another word she wrapped his torso in clean bandages soaked with a healing ointment of her making. She had barely finished the job before the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of their expected guest.

* * *

><p>"So, you're a wizard, huh?" The detective asked rhetorically as he sat in Shirou's living room at the opposite side of the table. "Gotta give you credit, kid. You were right when you told me I wouldn't believe it if you told me the truth."<p>

"I'm the one having trouble believing, Dojima-san," he told him frankly. "You have kept your cool better than I had thought possible, considering the circumstances."

"Oh, I freaked out enough on my own for a while before last night. I guess that I was more or less ready to accept anything by that point. Not that I had considered Magic as a possibility at all."

"Few would have," Shirou replied, nodding in agreement. "I heard from Megissa you already had a run in with another Magus."

"The Tohsaka girl, yes," Dojima said with a frown of thought. "How many other mages live in this city, anyway?"

"Well," he pondered. "Besides Tohsaka, I think there are at least two more. Matou Zouken is pretty reclusive as far as I know so you don't have to worry about him, but steer clear of the priest of the Catholic Church."

"Kotomine Kirei, you mean?"

"You know him?" Shirou asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Know _of _him. His name came up while I looked for suspects among the orphans of the great fire ten years ago. Speaking of which, was that incident related to mages as well?" Shirou nodded and Dojima's eyes narrowed. "All right, kid. Hit me. I want to know everything that's going on in this city."

"Are you really sure about this, Dojima-san? What you know would already warrant your elimination if other Magi found out about it. This would only expose you and your family even more," Shirou said with nothing but naked concern in his voice.

"Look, Emiya," he sighed. "I appreciate the thought, but I've thought about it long enough. I just can't turn my back when I know something is not right. You of all people should understand how I feel."

"Yeah," the redhead smiled, "Yeah, I know."

And so Shirou told him of the Holy Grail and the wars fought for its possession. He told him of Masters and Servants, of Magi and Heroic Spirits. He explained to him about the Grail malfunctions and the likelihood of a genocide should the artifact be allowed to fulfill its purpose.

Through his tale Dojima showed different kind of feelings. Disbelief at an unlimited power that could even bring the dead back to life; wonderment at the existence of such things as Heroes of legend that transcended time itself; anger at the callousness of Magi fighting a secret war over the heads of innocent and unsuspecting people; dread at the possibility of countless deaths at the hand of an evil artifact with unlimited power.

By the end of Shirou's story the dumbstruck detective was pale faced and was holding his head up with both arms propped on the table.

"And here I thought the situation couldn't get any weirder or worse. Holy Grail Wars? Heroic Spirits?" he gave a weird chuckle before his face went deadly serious. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?" Dojima slammed a hand on the table sending a glare at Shirou. "What the hell are you thinking, fighting a war like this in the middle of a goddamn city? Do you mages have no common sense at all?"

"Why you impudent little-" Medea began to stand but was stopped by a shake of the head from Shirou.

"Dojima-san, I understand and share your feelings completely. My own reason for participating in this war is to avoid casualties. As for other Magi, the answer would be no. They have little to no common sense when it comes to advancing Magecraft. That is not to say that each and every one of them is a ruthless monster, but having casualties among bystanders it's generally accepted so long as it's kept secret and helps the advancement of Magecraft."

"I suppose that's what you meant when you said you were authorized to know about them even if you aren't part of their organization," Dojima pondered. "Considering what you told me, I don't think they'd see what you do with your abilities as something good."

"At best I would be scorned by proper Magi, at worst I'd outright hunted for jeopardizing the secret," Shirou said, shrugging. "Fortunately my own brand of Magecraft isn't all that evident to the naked eye. So long as I'm cautious in how I use it, there shouldn't be any problem for me on that front."

"So, what now?" Dojima demanded. "Do you have a plan or something?"

"There's very little we can do at this point. The actual start of the war is still a few months away, and we've already ascertained that there's no way to stop the Grail System now that it's in full motion. The best course of action would be convincing other Masters and Servants not to fight, so as to leave the Grail mostly unpowered, but the likelihood of that happening are laughably low," he finished with a grimace.

"But why?" the detective asked a bit snappishly. "I get that Magi don't really care about other people's lives, but something of these proportions should be enough to make anyone see reason."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Dojima-san," Shirou sighed. "Remember those serial murders shortly before the great fire ten years ago? Well, one of the Masters and later his Servant were responsible for those. I'm not privy to all the details, but as far as I know there was no real purpose to their actions except their own sick amusement. Truth is, Dojima-san, that some people don't really care how many others die, and some would even relish in senseless violence and death."

"… Shit," the detective cursed.

"Besides even if no one like that showed up in this war I have no actual proof of the Grail's malfunction beside the evident. I'm relatively sure I can convince at least Tohsaka to trust me due to our history, but there's little chance that the other participants would take my word into consideration and cease hostilities. I'm going to try nonetheless, mind you," he said in assurance, "but I'm still going to prepare for the worst case scenario."

"A full, blown-out war," Dojima grimaced.

"Yeah," Shirou agreed sourly. "I'm taking steps to limit causalities, and Megissa here will work on a way to keep the Grail isolated once it's materialized until it can be either purified and used without consequence, or destroyed safely if worst comes to worst."

"Well, it's better than doing nothing, I suppose," Dojima grudgingly admitted. "What about me then? Is there any way I can be of help?"

Shirou sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"To be honest, the matter is complicated. Having you keeping your eyes open and your ears on the ground for information is a priceless advantage, but to be honest it will hardly be of any importance in the conflict itself. I don't mean this as a slight toward you, Dojima-san," he hastily clarified seeing how the man was about to protest. "The truth is that you have already handled a fight against a Magus better than I would have expected from someone ignorant of Magecraft, but Magi hardly ever fight like that."

"What do you mean?"

"The biggest part of a battle against Magi is unraveling how their Mysteries work and counteract them at best as possible. But like it sounds, being able to do something like that takes years of studying how Magecraft actually works beneath the surface. Even I don't have that kind of preparation right now, since I'm pretty much cut off from other Magi.

"What's more, a Magus would hardly try to fight you directly. As you have no actual defense against Magecraft, they would either opt to manipulate you through hypnosis or kill you if it was too inconvenient," the redhead said with a monotone voice that belied a burning anger. "Being on the front lines would only cause you to die prematurely and with little chance of providing any help. On the other hand, if you were to keep your eye on the situation from the sidelines you could help by facilitating the evacuation of the civilians from the battlefield if I couldn't prevent the fight from spilling into a populated area."

"You're basically asking me to act as support and back up," he sighed. "I honestly don't like it. Don't get me wrong, I understand what you're saying and it makes sense to me. I just don't like having to entrust the responsibility of the front line to someone your age."

"My Master is not a child," Medea objected a bit angrily.

"I know, I know. I saw what he can do and I know that he can handle himself," he quickly offered to placate the protective Heroic Spirit. "It's just wrong that he has to do it on his own. I mean, protecting people is my job description. Delegating my duty to someone else and just standing aside to watch annoys me, no matter how tactically correct it is."

"You're a good man, Dojima-san," Shirou said smiling, happy that he found a likely minded individual.

"Hmpf," Medea huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You should be glad that Master is even considering to keep you in the loop. I don't really see what contribution you can actually provide."

"Don't say that, Caster," Shirou intervened. "Even if the law enforcement is easily manipulated, they still have eyes and ears. Even if they could only report rumors they are still able to keep an eye over the city for us."

"Isn't there any way to avoid being hypnotized?" Dojima asked. "I dunno, some kind of training or something?"

"Well, a strong mind can resist the compulsion to do something they find disgusting or extremely against their moral compass, but beside that I don't know of any way to prevent a non-Magus from being put under a suggestion," Shirou said contemplatively.

"Actually, Master, there is a very simple method," Medea said cheerfully. "You just have to put that person under a stronger compulsion that cannot be shattered."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dojima held up his hand. "Are you saying you'll hypnotize me against being hypnotized? I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."

_'As if you'd have a choice,'_ the look in Medea's narrowed eyes all but said to the disgruntled detective. It didn't go unnoticed by Shirou either, but the fact that she hadn't actually voiced that opinion meant that she was deferring that decision to him.

"It does sound a bit extreme, but ultimately it would prevent you from being manipulated from a third party," Shirou said tentatively.

"I'll have to think about it. I trust you not to abuse something like that," Dojima said looking pointedly at Shirou and Shirou alone, "but my mind is my best tool. I'm not really cool with anyone messing around in my head."

"It's understandable. The choice is ultimately yours but I suggest you accept this offer. Last night's battle was mostly unrelated to the war so we're in no actually hurry to implement this solution, but I'm asking you to keep a low profile with regard to supernatural events you might come across for the time being."

"Even I can tell I'm way over my head here," Dojima scoffed. "If I spot something unusual I'll pull back and let you know."

"Then we are in agreement," Shirou said as he offered his hand." I'm looking forward to working with you, Dojima-san."

"Cut the crap and call me Ryutaro," the detective said shaking Shirou's hand. "No need to be formal with each other if we're going to risk our lives together, Shirou."

With that partnership established they exchanged phone numbers. Afterward, Shirou spent the evening outlining the events of Guilford's manor and the battle of the previous evening. It was late into the night when Dojima finally left and Shirou returned to bed.

* * *

><p>Much to his dismay, Shirou spent a good portion of his days after meeting Dojima lying in his bed. Even though he wasn't crippled to the point of not being able to move, Medea insisted that he let his wounds heal properly before straining himself any further. However, due to the extent of his wounds he missed the last few days of the school year. Thankfully his attendance rate and his grades were high enough to make it into the next year, but his supposed illness had caused some people curiosity because he was hardly ever sick. He managed to dodge visiting well-wishers such as Ayako and Issei by having Medea pretend that he was too tired to receive guests.<p>

He wasn't as lucky with Taiga, of course. Five days after the last time they spoke, his surrogate sister sat in the living room with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring firmly at Shirou and Medea sitting at his side.

How was it possible that relating his secret life as a vigilante to a man he had barely gotten the chance to know was easier than telling his own surrogate family?

"I know what you've been up to," she told him bluntly. "I've known for a while."

"I guessed so," Shirou said dejectedly. "You're smarter than you usually let on."

Taiga snorted, not at all pleased with his off-handed compliment. "Well then, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Do I have to say anything at all?" he asked honestly. It wasn't like he felt guilty about a single thing he had done, save perhaps keeping it secret from his sister and even then there were good reasons for that.

Taiga's fist hit the table causing the tea cups to clatter loudly.

"Don't be your usual idiot self, Shirou," the tiger-themed teacher raged. "This isn't a game. I let things go because you never seemed to get into anything really dangerous, but this has gone too far now. I will not stand to see you get injured over this ridiculous _hobby_of yours."

"It isn't a hobby. But you're right: this isn't a game at all," he told her seriously, without stepping back from his position as he usually did when the elder woman got serious about a subject. "I won't pretend that I'm not putting myself in danger, but I'm not going to quit either."

"Shirou, this isn't a joking matter," Taiga said, anger replaced by sisterly concern. "I get that you want to help and I might even understand why you feel like you should, but it's wrong for you to put yourself at risk. There is the police for catching criminals and protecting people."

"The police can't do everything," he protested vehemently, "and I won't stand by and watch when I can actually be of help to someone. What would have happened if I hadn't helped with Yukiko? The police had no clue on her whereabouts and were treating her case as a simple runaway. What would have happened to her and all those other girls?"

"I- I get that," she stuttered, a bit mollified but still unconvinced. "I don't mean to say that your help is meaningless. It's just… Shirou, you're just fifteen. A boy your age risking his life is just wrong. It shouldn't work like that."

"A lot of things aren't as they should, Fuji-nee," he sighed, reaching for her hand which was still on the table where it had struck. "I really don't want to make you worry. It's the last thing from my mind, but I can't just ignore all the things that are wrong around me when I have the power to change them."

"No… Just no, Shirou," Taiga said, a determined glint in her eye. "I can't accept it, no matter what you say. There are many other ways to help without putting yourself at risk. You can volunteer to help the homeless or something. Please, be reasonable."

Shirou just shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. There are things only I can do, people that I must protect. I won't turn my back on them just because it's easy."

"People you must protect?" she wondered aloud and her head snapped to glare at Medea, who hadn't said a word until then. "You're talking about her aren't you? That's how it is, isn't it? It's because of her that you got hurt."

"Yes," the purple haired woman admitted. "Shirou's injuries are the result of having shielded me with his body."

"I knew it," Taiga growled standing up, to do what Shirou didn't know but he didn't let of her hand, forcing his sister to sit again or trip forward awkwardly. "Shirou, let-"

"No! Just listen to me, Taiga!" he shouted. "My wounds aren't her fault. While it's true that I took a blow meant for her, her assailants were after her only because of her association with me. I was the real target."

"That's even worse, Shirou! Don't you see? You're not putting just yourself in danger but other people as well. This is exactly why you shouldn't do things like that!"

"You're wrong again," Shirou replied, voice calmer. "I wasn't being targeted because I'm Archer. I'm being targeted because I'm Emiya."

"B-but… What?" Taiga sat back, confusion momentarily dissipating her protective rage. "Why would anyone want to harm you specifically?"

The answer to that question was a bit more complicated than Shirou liked. It sprang from Kiritsugu's secret past, of which the teacher wasn't privy. Taiga used to have a crush on Shirou's father and even if she never followed through with those feelings, it was evident that she had cared a great deal for the man. She was the only other person beside Shirou who cried at his funeral.

For that reason the redhead hated having to shatter the image she had of the deceased Emiya. However, the whole point about this discussion was about being truthful and there was just no way to avoid the topic without arousing suspicions.

"Taiga, do you know what was Kiritsugu's job before moving to Fuyuki?"

"Eh? What does it have to do with anything?" she blinked, still not following this new subject. "Well, he was always going abroad so I think he was a businessman or something. With his weak constitution he could hardly be anything else."

"Fuji-nee, I hate to break this to you, I really do," he sighed, "but before falling ill, Kiritsugu used to be a mercenary and an assassin for hire."

A moment of stunned silence passed between the two, broken after a few moments by Taiga's awkward chuckle.

"A mercenary? Eh eh eh" she actually laughed. "Come on, Shirou, of all the things you could come up with that is…" she trailed off at the stony look in Shirou's eyes. "W-wait. You're actually serious?" she asked, wide eyed.

"Yes. The people who attacked us were assassin hired by an influential family he worked against in the past. They sought to get revenge on him by killing me. Med- Megissa just got caught in the crossfire."

"But… no… Kiritsugu wouldn't..." Taiga whispered. "He was one of the gentlest persons I ever met."

"He was as gentle in his personal life as he was ruthless during a job," Shirou said, trying for wry humor but falling flat. "Don't get me wrong, he never did it for the money. He only accepted jobs where killing a target would result in saving more lives: dictators, drug cartels and other sensitive targets whose deaths would save more lives than he took. I know it doesn't justify murder and in his last years he actually regretted a lot of the things he did, but he never committed them out of personal gain or plain greed."

"That's absurd, Shirou," she shook her head in denial. "I can't believe what you're telling me. Kiri would never-"

"Do you think I'd lie to you over something like this, Taiga?" he asked seriously, even a bit angrily, staring deep into her eyes. For a moment Taiga just stared back at him, and then lowered her head in dismay.

"No, you wouldn't," she said dejectedly. "Is that why you're doing it? Because you want to imitate him? Shirou, you mustn't-"

"Kiritsugu's dream was to help everyone," he interrupted her, determined to make her see. "Somewhere along the way something happened to him, and he came to the conclusion that to save a life he had to take another. I believed his original dream was beautiful and correct so I inherited it, made it my own, but I will not follow the same path as he did. You don't have to worry about that, at least."

A long moment of silence passed. Taiga didn't say anything, unable to speak as her mind was trying to comprehend all she had been told. She didn't think Shirou could lie about something like that, but at the same time she was having a hard time associating what she knew of Kiritsugu with the things Shirou told her. Ultimately, it appeared, she pushed those concerns aside, returning to the topic of discussion that had brought up this revelation.

"Shirou, what will you do when the day comes that the only way to save someone is to kill somebody else? If you're really serious about this 'being a hero thing' you've got going here, one day you'll be forced to take a life. Even if you won't turn into a person who solves problems by killing in cold blood you-"

"That day," he licked his dry lips. This was harder than he had expected. "That day has already come and gone, Fuji-nee. I already have become a killer," Shirou confessed with sad finality, looking down at his feet. He felt no shame for killing Guilford. It had been the right call in those circumstances, but he wasn't proud of it either. It had been a dirty but necessary deed.

The only way Taiga's face could have expressed more horror would have been if she actually witnessed Shirou doing what he implied he already did. There were many emotions playing across her face: fear, disbelief and worry were the most prominent.

"N-no," she stuttered, a single tear running down her cheek. "Shirou…"

"I know you must hate me," Shirou said, looking anywhere but his sister's face. "I'd understand if you want nothing to do with me now, but you have to believe me, Taiga." His voice had risen in desperation, and he said, "I really couldn't avoi-!"

Whatever Shirou intended to say was cut short when his face was buried into his sister's bosom.

* * *

><p>Taiga's heart lay in pieces.<p>

Much could be said about the only daughter of the Fujimura family. She was strong headed, passionate, light hearted and dedicated. She was a person of many extremes and few middle grounds. This caused her to either be extremely liked or be considered extremely insufferable, though very few ever managed to dislike her for very long.

It wasn't all that surprising, for she was a person who genuinely cared for just about anyone and who lived with her heart on a sleeve. The emotions she showed were always as obvious as they were honest. It was therefore no wonder why she couldn't hold back the tears this latest revelation had caused.

When she first met Shirou she immediately took a shine to him. He was the little bother she never had and they shared common traits in their stubbornness and straightforwardness. For years she watched him grow into a fine young man: confident, reliable and kind. Admittedly, he needed very little help on her part. He always seemed driven by a very strong moral compass and never once gave up on something he thought right.

Needless to say she was very proud of him and while he still thought like an idiot from time to time, he was still very intelligent and responsible enough to make his own choices, so she never really stuck her nose into his private affairs. Of course she had grown increasingly worried, as her suspicions about his nighttime activities became more than just that. His latest injury was the last straw that compelled her to take action before it was too late and he got seriously hurt.

But, as it appeared, it was already too late. He had been injured not only in the body, but his soul too now was scarred by a wound that would never disappear. That knowledge hurt her to no end; a pain further enhanced by her own inability to even notice anything out of the ordinary in him.

As a teacher, as a guardian and as a sister she had failed him. To twist the knife even more he was now seriously considering the possibility that she would want to distance herself from him; that because of his choices and her shortcomings she would not want to be his onee-chan anymore. He even thought she would _hate_ him.

She would have none of that.

"Bwaaaaa!" she cried as she crushed his head into her chest in a hug. "Shirouuu, you- you- you-" she pulled him away and looked straight into his confused eyes, "you idiooooot!"

**_SLAP!_**

She slapped him square on the right cheek, so hard that he almost spun on the spot even thought he was half sitting and half kneeling on the floor.

"You unbelievable," she slapped him again, "inconceivable," and again, "utter IDIOT!"

Shirou fell on his back, both cheeks alight from the abuse he had willingly taken, probably for entirely wrong reasons.

"I'm sorry, Fuji-nee," he said, tears growing as he avoided her gaze. "I never wanted to disappoint you."

"How dare you? How dare you? How dare you even insinuate that I wouldn't want to be your big sis anymore?" she raged in full tiger mode, having jumped to her feet and staring down at his charge with fiery eyes.

"…. Uh?" he mumbled incoherently. "Taiga, I killed a man."

"And I hate it! I hate it, I hate, I hate it**!**" she all but roared, causing the even walls to tremble. However her rage soon deflated and her shoulders slumped, "but I hate even more that you would think that just because of that I wouldn't want to be your sister anymore. I should," she hiccupped, "I should beat the stupid out of you, you idiot."

"'I'm- I'm sorry?" he said tentatively, standing up on his feet as well.

"Damn right you are," she told him, wiping away the remnants of her tears. "You're going to apologize to your onee-sama and then you're going to sit down and tell her every detail without leaving a single thing out, understood?"

"H-Hai! But I would rather prefer if we had this conversation another time… maybe?" he stumbled on his words as Taiga glared at him with murderous eyes. "Then again, maybe not."

"Good boy," she nodded in approval. "Now, tell me everything there is to know."

"Uuuhhh…" he mumbled. "I don't really know how to put it."

"Come on," she said, straightening her slightly ruffled gown and putting up a confident smile. "We've gotten this far. I don't think that anything you can tell me will surprise me anymore at this point."

"Errr. I wouldn't be so sure about that, Fuji-nee," he replied awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck while sending suspicious glances at Megissa, who hadn't said almost a word for the entire time.

N-no way. Could it be that he had…?

"Shirou," she said with a dangerous edge to her voice, "if you're about to tell me you knocked up Megissa-san, I'm going to castrate you."

"I- but- WHAT? Fuji-nee! What in the world are you saying?" Shirou spluttered, his face so red that it could have lit up the room if the lights were out. Megissa had a similar reaction on her face, though Taiga had expected the older woman to protest just as vehemently as Shirou. Hmm…

"Well, what am I supposed to believe then?" Taiga demanded, hands on her hips. "She's obviously privy to your secrets, and I really can't see what else you could be reluctant to talk about at this point. So far you've told me Kiritsugu was an assassin for hire, you're a vigilante and you've already killed a man. I don't think it can get much more outrageous than this, except for something along those lines."

"Well, when you put it like that I can see why you'd think so," he admitted sheepishly, "but it's not like that. I swear."

"Hmm, what is it then?"

Shirou sighed and rubbed his temples. Taiga was starting to get a bit scared. At this point she couldn't understand what else Shirou could be hesitant to reveal.

"I suppose there aren't many ways to go about this, so I'll say it as straight as it is. Taiga, I'm a mage," he told her in complete seriousness.

Taiga blinked and then blinked again. After Shirou's words sunk in, her left eyebrow started to twitch. Of all things, he had to say something idiotic like that while she was actually being worried?

"A mage? As in a wizard?"

"Uhm, yeah," Shirou said hesitantly, not liking his sister's eerie calm.

Slowly and with surprising outward calmness she reached with her left hand to his shirt, clutching it tightly just beneath the neck while her other hand balled up into a fist. Working her up just to make some lame joke was not something she was inclined to forgive in her current emotional state.

"Shirou," she said with false sweetness, raising her fist, "I'm going to punch you now."

"Whoa!" he waved his hands in front of his face. "I'm not kidding, Taiga! I really am a mage. Megissa as well."

"I get it. I understand," she said dejectedly, almost not hearing his next words.

"Trace on!"

"I really shouldn't have-"

Her words died in her mouth as a katana formed out of thin air right in Shirou's hand, then another identical one appeared in a similar fashion in his left. It wasn't a mere trick. The swords just weren't there one moment, and a moment later they were.

She looked from the swords to Shirou and back again. Then, recalling what he had said just moments earlier about his guest, her head snapped toward Megissa. Having noticed her stare, the other woman stood up from the table. Without so much as a word on her part her clothes morphed into a long purple robe complete with a hood that concealed her face, forming the perfect outfit for a witch from a fairytale.

"Magic?" she squeaked, returning her eyes to Shirou.

"Yeah," he agreed with a carefully measured tone. "Uhm, surprised?"

"Eh! Eh eh eh eeeeh," Taiga laughed awkwardly. Then she did the most reasonable thing she could come up with in such a situation: she passed out.

* * *

><p>Shirou dismissed the two Monohoshizao in his hands and grabbed Taiga before she could hit the ground.<p>

"That went exactly as I expected," he said out loud, cradling his sister and gently placing her on the floor. Granted if she hadn't been already upset by everything else she might have been more inclined to accept this latest revelation more easily, but he had already pushed her to her limits before dropping this particular bombshell.

"She'll be alright," Medea said as she joined his side. "She really cares about you. I'm sure that once she gets past the shock she'll understand the responsibilities you have chosen to bear."

"I hope so. By the way, I'm sorry about, you know, what she insinuated about us," he said with a forced grin of embarrassment. "For a teacher, her mind tends to get stuck in the proverbial gutter a bit too often."

"O-oh, that?" Medea asked strangely flustered beneath her hood. "Don't worry about it. It was a legitimate suspicion from her perspective. Even back in my time a man and a woman living under the same roof would have given the impression of being in such a relationship. I don't really mind."

She might have said so, but Shirou was fairly certain she was at least a bit upset about Taiga's words. Well, who wouldn't be in her place? Anyway it was better not to prod the subject any further and just forget about it entirely.

"Anyway, thank you for supporting me with this. I understand that secrecy is fundamental in the course of the Grail War, but I really couldn't just pretend with Taiga that everything is still normal," he said with a shake of the head. "Not with what this entire city is about to face."

"It's okay," she told him warmly with a thin smile. "I can't fault your desire to give her a choice. After all, I too wish I was given one when it counted the most."

Shirou hadn't thought of it like that, but now that she pointed it out she had been denied any semblance of choice in her lifetime. If anyone could appreciate Shirou's decision to give Taiga the option to make a conscious choice in regard of her future, it was her.

"Hm?" Taiga mumbled as she started to wake up. "Shirou? What are you doing in my room? Is breakfast ready?"

"Breakfast?" Shirou deadpanned. She hadn't hit her head, right? "Taiga it's just past dinner time and this is my living room."

"Oh, I must have dozed off then. I just had the strangest dream."

"Hmm, was it about me being a wizard vigilante?" he cringed.

"Yes, but how did you guess?" she blinked at him with eyes still a bit unfocused.

"It wasn't a dream."

"It wasn't?"

"Nope," he confirmed.

"…Oh."

Slowly she sat up and looked around, her eyes settling on the purple-clad Servant. For a long moment she just stared at her and was stared right back.

"I'm here to answer any question you need to ask, Fuji-nee," Shirou said, hoping his sister's mind hadn't truly broken.

"A wizard," she mumbled returning her eyes to him.

"A Magus," Shirou corrected unconsciously, "but yes, I am."

"Since when?"

"Since Kiritsugu taught me, ten years ago," he answered plainly.

She snorted, actually amused.

"What? Was he a Wizard Assassin, then?"

"Magus Killer," he corrected her.

"You gotta be kidding me," she moaned, letting her head drop in her hands. "All this time; you've known for so long. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Magecraft is supposed to be kept secret at all costs," Medea supplied helpfully. "The Mage's Association punishes transgressors severely, even with death. Even those who have learned of its existence and their closest associates are mercilessly crushed for the sake of total concealment. By not telling you, Shirou and his father were protecting you and your family."

"I- I don't understand. Why tell me now, then? What's your involvement with this, Megissa-san? If that's even your name," Taiga finished with a suspicious glint in her eyes.

"It isn't," the Servant coolly confirmed Taiga's suspicions. "My actual name is to remain secret, though Shirou knows it. As for what changed…"

"A war between Magi will take place here in Fuyuki in a few months," Shirou continued, nodding his appreciation to Medea. "A war that could claim hundreds if not thousands of lives."

"A war?" Taiga asked disbelievingly. "That's absurd. Why would anyone fight a war in this place? What about keeping Magic secret?"

"Taiga, do you remember the fire, ten years ago? How no one never really managed to explain what caused it? How unnaturally fast it had spread, how so many people died in it?"

"Of course I do, that's when you were…no!" the teacher exclaimed wide eyed, realization sinking in. "You can't possibly mean…"

"I do," he grimly confirmed. "This war has taken place once already, at least four times now. Always here in Fuyuki."

"But… why? What's there in this city that anyone would fight to the death over?" Taiga asked in a shaking voice.

"An artifact said to be able to fulfill any single wish," Medea and Shirou looked at each other as they answered as one. "The Holy Grail."

It took but a moment before Taiga went limp again in Shirou's arms. The redhead sighed wearily. This was going to be a very long night.

* * *

><p>It took a moment to wake Taiga again, convince her once more that no, it hadn't been all a dream and then proceed to explain all the details of the bloody conflict that was the Holy Grail War. Slowly she managed to overcome the shock of so many world-shaking revelations, though she looked to be on the verge of fainting again when Shirou explained that Megissa was essentially a ghost from an ancient time who had been summoned to fight for the Grail.<p>

The concept of near divine beings contending for the all powerful artifact by fighting over the city filled her with dread, even more so when Shirou explained why no good thing could come out of that cup. She accepted, begrudgingly, that Shirou had a very important role to play in the coming months, and that he could not and would not shy away from this responsibility.

The discussion proceeded well into the night, as Shirou told her the tale of a man who wanted to be a hero but couldn't, a man that was ready to sacrifice everything for an impossible dream, a man that was left with nothing but ashes in his hands.

It was almost morning when Taiga finally left the Emiya household. She was wholly exhausted from the tears spilled for Kiritsugu, who had lived his final years in regret and sorrow; and for the stupid, wonderful boy who had picked up that dream from the ashes where it had fallen, fully conscious of the difficulties that lay ahead.

She was grateful that he had cared enough to reveal it all to her, but it hurt her to no end to realize that there was nothing she could do to protect him. She didn't have the ability or the power to aid him in any manner.

She would, however, support and sustain him as much as she could. It was the least she could do for her stupid little brother.

* * *

><p>A long distance from Fuyuki City, a man was staring out of his study's window. Tohno Makihisa felt restless.<p>

The night was silent, completely quiet, but a man like him couldn't miss the atmosphere of impending death that had filled the corridors and rooms of his mansion. Moreover, someone like him, who had brought his own fair share of deaths would not mistake that he was the recipient of this murderous intent.

Far from being particularly unsettled from this, he set himself to put his business in order. He signed the papers that were on his desk and filed them appropriately. He put his books back in their place on the library and generally straightened his workspace. Finally, with nothing else to do he sat in his chair and waited.

Idly, he opened a drawer from his desk and pulled out a wooden box. He opened it slowly and admired its content: a small, retractable fruit knife. It was fairly old and well kept; an antique that didn't have any monetary worth but held a great significance for the elder Tohno.

It was entirely inconspicuous, except for a small inscription on the bottom. If one read the kanji in a certain way it would have spelled the words 'Seven Nights'.

His thoughts went to the boy who actually owned that blade. How would he remember him after he was gone? Would the name Tohno Makihisa be associated with the father figure he tried to be, or the monster he actually was?

It was a question whose answer would forever elude him, though if his other child was anything to go by, he'd probably loathe him. As he rightly should, the man thought darkly.

Further contemplations were pushed aside as the door to his study opened with a loud clack, followed by the screeching noise typical of old metal hinges. Slowly, Makihisa put the blade back into its box and carefully into the drawer from whence it came.

Then and only then he turned to face the wholly expected visitor, staring them squarely in the eye.

"So you are my death," he said without a hint of surprise in his cool voice.

Not two minutes later Tohno Makihisa was lying in a pool of his own blood, his back resting against the wall beneath the window. As his life rapidly escaped from the gash on his chest, his last thoughts were not for his three heirs, nor for the many people he had wronged in his lifetime.

No, curiously enough his last thoughts were for another boy who had a monster for a father: a boy with eyes of gold. A bitter smirk formed on his face, for he was sure, with the clarity and foresight that often accompanied a dying man's last moments, that the son of the Magus Killer would inevitably be dragged into the swirl of madness that was his family. His only regret was being unable to witness with his own eyes the slaughter fest that would follow his demise.

Tohno Makihisa passed away with a blood-chilling grin, unbefitting a man that had just been mercilessly slaughtered.

And so, with his last breath, the gears of destiny of a boy with death-filled eyes started once more to turn in a slow, merciless spinning motion that would squeeze the blood out of anyone so unfortunate enough to be caught in it.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Put it up in a rush before leaving for work. Not really much to say about this one. I might add another author note depending on the reviews later, but that's it for now. Bring all eventual bitchings to the forum (not the spoiler one)<p>

Thanks for reading.

AN2: Edit: I wrongly assumed that Rin had vampiric ancestry because Zelretch is considered her Ancestor. That was a mistake because Zelretch's disciple was her actual ancestor. I corrected that part. Kudos to blakraven66 for pointing it out.


	23. Fake Opening

**Chapter 22 – Fake Opening  
><strong>(Published: 04.29.13 - Beta: RavingScholar)

* * *

><p>Life is a funny thing. One moment you are trying to kill someone, the next you are expecting to share a cup of tea peacefully with that same person.<p>

Such were Waver Velvet's musing while he waited for the last living Emiya to arrive. As agreed with Caster, he had called a week after the deplorable incident caused by the unjustified grudge of his elders.

Truth be told he found Emiya to be relatively calm during their conversation on the phone in spite of being severely wounded during an unprovoked confrontation. If it were him, Waver would have been fairly pissed. Then again the immediate culprits had already paid a heavy toll for their transgressions, and quite frankly a masked vigilante probably had a different outlook on such matters.

A vigilante; now that was an unusual thing among Magi. In the history of Magecraft it wasn't so unusual to see a practitioner of the craft more interested in its applications rather that its development, but never to the best of his knowledge had someone used them in such manner. Even Emiya's deceased predecessor had an approach to his beliefs more in line with how the Clock Tower normally dealt with their targets. Improvement through elimination was a brutally efficient method of getting things done, but the current holder of the Emiya name had a less deadly approach to things. Considering the teenage Magus was in a contract with a Servant, Waver was quite grateful for that.

If the boy had sent Caster after him, the likelihood of Waver getting out of Fuyuki alive were pretty close to zero, even if he managed to escape after their first encounter. The Caster Class' ability with scrying was unparalleled, and in all likelihood superior to a modern Magus's ability to hide from it.

Therefore, while he still did the smart thing and checked the surroundings for eventual traps, Waver entered the Copenhagen feeling relatively safe. The cozy little establishment was devoid of Boundary Fields, both active and dormant, and while it was a familiar place that Emiya frequented there was no indication that it could be considered someplace out of the ordinary.

As such, Waver sat at a table in a far corner and ordered a cup of his favorite type of tea while he waited for his guest to arrive. He didn't have to wait for long since Emiya walked in a few minutes before the agreed time.

There weren't many other patrons, but the boy's eyes zeroed in on him as soon as he walked past the door. As expected from the Cheongs' reports, the young Magus had a keen sense for detecting when somebody was observing him.

With a tap of the finger on the tabletop, Waver activated the array he had drawn. It was a simple enough spell, but would keep their conversation from being overheard accidentally. Waver inclined his head in acknowledgment and Emiya nodded back.

"Good day, Mr. Velvet," he greeted in English as he sat.

"Likewise, Emiya-san," Waver replied smoothly in Japanese. "I'd like to say it's a pleasure, but I'm afraid that the circumstances of our meeting have put that beyond our reach."

"I'm afraid so," the Japanese Magus agreed. "We didn't exactly start off on the best foot. Unpleasantries aside, we have a bit of a situation at hand. As I understand it, you want something from me."

"Indeed," Waver nodded, secretly appreciating Emiya's willingness to let bygones be bygones and look at the matter at hand. "As I've told your… friend, I'm interested in acquiring the late Guilford's Crest."

"That's not exactly a simple request, Waver-san. Rule of Blood was… extremely misused by its previous host," Shirou said, his hesitation implying a vast amount unsaid. "Just giving it up without any form of insurance isn't an option. What's your interest in it?"

"My elders have tasked me with its retrieval for the purpose of transplanting a new Crest into our family. As you might know, the Archibald's Crest was destroyed by your father in the course of the Fourth War."

"Yes, I was aware of that," Shirou nodded. "I suppose that the attempt on my friend's and my life a week ago was due to this old grudge, wasn't it? And according to what Caster told me, you weren't personally aware of your elders' intentions."

"Saying that I didn't expect them to try something like that would be a lie," he admitted, "so I didn't inform them about you. However, the mercenaries they hired saw fit to bypass me and inform them nonetheless. As you must be well aware, that didn't end well for them."

"That's an understatement if I ever heard one," Shirou nodded. "About that, how are they doing?"

"Concern for those who tried to kill you, Emiya-san?" Waver asked with surprise mingled with curiosity in his voice. "It's unusual even for normal people, all the more so for a Magus."

"Yes, well, by this point you should have figured that I don't embrace the philosophy of the Magi community. And besides, there is no point in holding a grudge toward simple hired hands. It would be a waste of effort and quite hypocritical of me. "

"A fair point," Waver admitted with a nod. Ah, a practitioner of the Craft who had a measure of common sense: such a rarity. "They are as fine as they could be. Their injuries are serious but not life threatening. They will probably have to change careers, though."

Emiya didn't reply to that besides a small nod. There wasn't much to be said anyway.

"Returning to our previous topic," Waver continued," my elders wanted to get their hands on Rule of Blood to obtain easy access to another Crest in order to restore their status within the Clock Tower. They had an agreement with Guilford to acquire and transplant the new Crest, though I don't know who the donor would have been."

"I do," Shirou replied dryly with a dangerous edge to his voice. Waver went out on a limb and figured that the young Magus in front of him was at least acquainted with Guilford's unfortunate target. "But why are you telling me this? Such information is priceless blackmail material."

"For you? Not likely," Waver decreed, shaking his head. "You are not associated with the Clock Tower, and your own use of Magecraft would hardly be appreciated in there. The only reason you don't have a Sealing Designation is because you've done good work in keeping your and your Craft's existence a secret. Your testimony would hardly be taken into any consideration in London. As for why I'm telling you, well, I have no real reason to lie and every reason to come clean. You might not hold a grudge, but trust between us is still an issue."

"That's putting it mildly, but I agree. So, what reason do I have to part with Rule of Blood?"

"Besides getting rid of something that would cause the Association to come knocking at your door? As I told Caster, I'm willing to silence my elders about your existence, seeing as they are the only ones to know about you besides me. In addition, as the new Lord El-Melloi I can give you apprenticeship if you ever decide to reveal yourself and join the Clock Tower. Most importantly, I'm willing to share my experience as Master during the course of the Fourth War. Would that be enough?"

"No," Emiya replied bluntly without missing a beat. "Your offer is generous and most of what you propose are things I have no way to obtain from someone else, however Rule of Blood's potential to do harm is too great to simply give away without any form of insurance that it won't be misused again."

"What are you proposing then?" Waver asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"A self-geas scroll."

Waver breathed deeply, then exhaled. Slowly, he put his cup of tea back on its plate and stared Emiya squarely in the eyes.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Not at all. Frankly the only reason I haven't destroyed it yet is because it has a great potential to do good things. Its healing properties are out of this world, but I won't entrust it to just anyone. If you want it, you'll have to take responsibility for it."

"How do you expect me to take responsibility for something I intend to return to the Clock Tower?" Waver asked, tapping his finger on the table out of habit.

"Then don't return it to the Clock Tower at all," Emiya said, a glint in his eyes. "Weren't the Archibald looking for a new Crest? And are you not an Archibald yourself?"

Waver, to his credit, expressed his surprise only through a slight widening of his eyes. Certainly doing what Emiya suggested would solve a great deal of problems, but on the other hand it opened an entirely different can of worms.

Since he had discovered that Guilford was dead and the deal with the elders was off Waver had put much consideration into blackmailing the old geezers into submission, knowing that being the one to return the Crest would spare him the repercussions the other Archibalds would have to face for dealing with a Sealing Designate on the run.

However if he took Rule of Blood upon himself and at the same time revealed the elders' dealings, there was a good chance he could wrest control of the entirety of their fortune and resources for himself. He would become the de-facto Head of the family instead of a mere placeholder.

It was a hazardous plan and it meant that he would become a Sealing Designate himself, which in turn meant little to no freedom of movement. Not that he needed much of that anyway. He had spent over five years without leaving the Clock Tower. He was a researcher at heart and had little interest in sightseeing.

The only reason for him to ever leave would be if an experiment could not be performed there, and the Association was more than willing to allow that. He'd probably to be escorted by a few Enforcers, both for his protection and to prevent an escape, but what did he care?

"Your idea…has merit. I have to evaluate a few implications, as well as retrieve the necessary material for the contract. What kind of terms did you have in mind?"

"Only not to perform any harmful Magecraft on unwilling subjects unless in self-defense or in defense of others, and to enforce the same rules upon the next host before passing it down."

"Those are reasonable terms," Waver agreed. Most Magi wouldn't care about harming others in the pursuit of knowledge, but Waver wasn't like that. "Don't you intend to enforce your payment as well?"

"I don't really care about that," the redhead shrugged. "True, we have no particular reason to trust each other, but if we are to establish a working business relationship we have to start somewhere."

"You make a good point. Very well then, I'll see what I can do and get back to you as soon as I can. On an entirely different topic, if you don't mind my asking: what's going on with the Grail War? It's happening fifty years too early, and in the past week there was no sign of Servant activity. I don't believe it's normal."

"It isn't," Emiya agreed. "But there's no reason for you to concern yourself with it, seeing as you aren't a Master this time around. However, just to sate your curiosity: know that the war isn't about to actually start for a few more months. The Grail is being more whimsical than usual and I'm keeping an eye over the situation."

"How convenient," Waver chuckled.

"Let me make it clear, Velvet-san," Emiya replied firmly, a hint of anger his steel-like gaze. "I have no interest whatsoever in the Grail save for preventing it from falling into the hands of someone who'd use it to harm innocents."

Waver shook his head. "You know what? Had I heard it coming from anyone else I wouldn't have believed such a statement, but seeing how you don't seem to give much value to anything but the well-being of others I'm willing to actually consider what you said as the truth."

Emiya nodded his acknowledgement, apparently not really caring if Waver believed him or not. He knew, of course, that the other Magus knew more about the Grail's unusual activities than he was willing to share, but as Emiya had said there was no particular reason for them to trust each other at this point. Perhaps this would change in time, but as it was Waver wasn't particularly interested in the Holy Grail anymore.

The only reason from him to be interested at this point was to summon his King to the world of the living once again, but Iskandar had never expressed the desire for Waver to do such a thing. His orders were to live on and carry his memory, not to fight again. Of course, if the Grail picked him again he would certainly give his King a chance to ride once more. Yet that was beyond his control.

With no other topics to discuss the two Magi bade each other farewell until a later time and Emiya left the establishment, leaving Waver to ponder how to implement his plans for the future.

* * *

><p>Waver contacted Shirou three days later to sign the self-geas scroll. Shirou didn't know how Waver intended to deal with the aftermath of returning Rule of Blood to the Clock Tower, but the Contract insured that he would live up to his word.<p>

It might have been hazardous to give away the Crest but Medea assured him that without the ritual she devised, the mind-controlling properties of Rule of Blood were beyond the grasp of modern day Magi. Ultimately, Rule of Blood's capacity for good far outweighed its potential to do harm, which was almost entirely removed thanks to the self-geas scroll.

However, that didn't mean everyone was happy with the outcome.

"Honestly, Master," Medea protested after they returned home from exchanging the Crest and signing the scroll, "you should have asked for something more in exchange for the Crest."

"I already had what I wanted," Shirou replied. "Actually getting rid of that thing was already payment enough. The last thing I needed was having the Clock Tower after me when the Grail War begins. There's only so much trouble I can handle at the same time."

"I see your point, but I still think you should have asked for a better bargain," Medea groused.

"I think I got the best bargain I could have asked for in the long term. Velvet-san sounds like a reasonable and down-to-earth person, which is a rarity among Magi in general, nevermind the Lords. Having him on our good side is better in the long run."

"I can agree to that," Medea acquiesced. "That being said, was there anything useful in his memories of the past war?"

"It's going to be slow going sorting through those," Shirou admitted while rubbing his temple slowly.

It had been Medea's idea to have Velvet literally share his memories with Shirou. The man was less than thrilled to have someone snooping around his brain, so Shirou stipulated that they would stick to the man's experiences of the War and those alone within their contract.

Everything went smoothly, though it had been a strange experience, especially since the memories had been dumped into his mind in a single cluster and a human's higher brain functions weren't able to process so much information at once. In all likelihood, it would take him more than a few weeks to sort them out and review them as his own memories. If it had been a single memory it would have been a different matter, but a week's worth of memories was just too much.

"The likelihood of the same Servant appearing twice is slim, but make sure to examine the way they fought as well as how the other Masters acted," Medea instructed. "Even if it's from a single perspective it's still invaluable knowledge."

"Definitely. Now that I'm home from school I have all the time to practice with you and train with Kuzuki-sensei," Shirou said cheerfully, as if the impending beatings from his teacher were something to look forward to.

"Far be it for me to deprecate your eagerness to learn and improve," Medea chided amusedly, "but isn't this time of the year meant for rest and relaxation?"

"Are you kidding? Now is the best time to focus on my training without interruptions. I'll relax after the war," he concluded with a wave of the hand. "I can't afford to slack off right now. I was thinking of quitting the Archery club as well."

"Really?" Medea was taken a little aback. "I figured you really liked to practice with the bow, it being your primary weapon."

"Eh, don't misunderstand. The bow is my best weapon and I really do like practicing with it, but my skill is already beyond that of a school club and the time I spend there can be used more efficiently. I don't plan to quit entirely, but I'll certainly have to drop the captainship and forget about competitions. Maybe next year I'll pick it up again, but that's then."

"I'm sorry that you have to make so many sacrifices for a conflict you haven't chosen." Medea seemed saddened for some reason.

"Don't be," he shook his head." It's not a sacrifice at all and even if I'd rather not have this war take place at all, it was still my choice to participate in it."

As they walked, Medea reached for his hand where the sword shaped Command Seal was etched, softly running her thumb over the lines. A bit of warmth rose to Shirou's face at the touch.

"Is it truly not a burden?" she asked, her voice low yet unmistakably emotion-filled. "Bearing this mark means having people after your life. Doesn't it bother you?"

"Of course it does," Shirou nodded, "but it's fine. If I'm bearing this mark, then it means that somebody else isn't and that they're safe."

"Sometimes I worry that you don't value your own life at all, Shirou."

Shirou shrugged. "Eh, Kiritsugu said something similar once. He told me that I was distorted because I cared about others more than I do for myself. He made it sound like a bad thing, but I don't care. No matter what anyone says wanting to save someone else isn't wrong. Besides, shouldn't the Command Seal bother you more? It binds you, not me. If you wanted me to get rid of it, you'd just have to ask; you know that, right?"

"Of course you would say something silly like that," Medea chuckled. "You have to be the only Magus who would willing to drop the leash that keeps their familiar at bay for no gain at all. At any rate, forfeiting the seal wouldn't mean forfeiting the contract with me. I would still have access to your Prana until I forged another contract with someone else."

"That you're acknowledging it as a leash is enough of a reason for me to drop it," Shirou all but growled at the thought. "The only reason I haven't is because it's an asset that can make the difference between life and death later on."

"And the only reason I haven't severed the binding myself is because I know you wouldn't coerce me into anything. Or rather, that is the reason why I accepted the contract with you in the first place."

"Then there is no reason for us to question it, isn't it?" Shirou asked as he eyed his marked hand, which Medea was still holding at face level between them as they walked.

"None at all," Medea replied with a smile.

"- so young."

"Uh?" Shirou said, turning his head to look at a couple of women, standing not too far away from him and Medea. They were whispering conspiratorially to each other while simultaneously trying and failing to make it look like they weren't staring at them.

"… been living together in that big mansion by themselves for a while," another one whispered back.

"… a cradle-robber."

Wait. Was it just his imagination, or were those women saying…?

He tried to free his hand and deny their claims, and more importantly to politely demand them to mind their own business. He found himself unable to do so as Medea tightened her grip around his hand. He turned to look at her, blinking in surprise. Hadn't she heard what they were saying?

"Let's go, Shirou," Medea pulled him, dragging him away without looking at him. "Let them think whatever they want."

"But… Medea, they're saying that we are…"

"I don't mind, Shirou," she repeated, cutting off his protest. "Unless you do, of course."

"N…No. If it doesn't bother you, I- I don't really mind either," Shirou stuttered, surprised at her reaction and a more than bit flustered at the prolonged contact.

"Well, then. Let us go home."

"… All right."

They walked back slowly, ignoring the stares and enjoying the company of someone from whom they didn't have to hide anything.

The entire time Medea didn't let go of his hand.

* * *

><p><strong>Later that evening<strong>

Medea was curled into a ball in the relatively small bathtub of the Emiya household. Her head was poking out of the water, air bubbling out from her submerged mouth.

What the hell had she been doing?

Her behavior had been erratic lately, her mood swinging continuously: anger, happiness, confusion and at times even outright giddiness. There was something wrong with her she couldn't figure out… Oh, who was she kidding? She knew perfectly well what was wrong with her, and while she said she didn't mind the truth was far from it.

She stood up and stepped out of the tub, wrapping her naked form in a towel. Her wet feet carried her over the mirror and there she stood, staring at her own reflection.

She was, she knew, a very attractive woman of apparently thirty years of age. Her status as a Heroic Spirit as well as her divine heritage granted her traits that normal women could hardly hope to possess, but even though she had such qualities it didn't change the fact that by the time of her death she had been nearly fifty years old.

Even putting aside the fact that, technically speaking, she was born well over two thousand years before the current date, she was well over three times his age.

Three times his age!

She didn't mind what random strangers thought of her. She had long since learned to disregard the opinions of those who knew nothing but judged everyone and everything. No, she didn't care about them, but she cared about her own thoughts.

She knew quite clearly what her feelings for Shirou were, and she was utterly terrified of them. Not only because such feelings had been twisted in the past to serve the whims of others, but also because she felt conscious of the years that separated them. She could very well be his mother or even his grandmother considering how early women gave birth back in her time, and even if he wasn't a mere boy he certainly was a very, very young man.

She felt ashamed of even considering him in such a light, but she couldn't quite help the feeling that surged in her chest at the thought of him as well as the fears that followed.

Would he even acknowledge her as a woman? Would he be attracted by her? Would he think her a pervert for having such thoughts about a man a third her age?

A part of her wanted to seal those feelings shut and throw the key away, forever forgotten.

Another part of her knew that there was no other man for her. Even if she ever met another person as caring and as forgiving as him that wouldn't change the fact that it was Emiya Shirou who had saved her, that it was Emiya Shirou who had sheltered her, that it was Emiya Shirou who bled for her, that it was Emiya Shirou who gave her hope for the future and a reason to continue an otherwise pointless existence.

Acknowledging this meant acknowledging her new fears: fear of losing him to the coming war or one of the many other conflicts he would certainly go looking for; fear of her feelings going unnoticed or being rejected if confessed aloud.

She had fallen into the millennia old dilemma that plagued most people. Was it better to embrace these new feelings and jeopardize the bond they shared, or was it better to forget about them and content herself with what she had?

She couldn't quite give herself an answer.

* * *

><p>Shirou was cooking dinner in relative quiet, pondering the events that transpired earlier that day. Surprisingly, or maybe not, it wasn't the cluster of unraveled memories inside his head that occupied his thoughts but rather Medea's behavior.<p>

When he first met her she was, understandably, bitter and distrusting. It warmed his heart seeing her open up and expressing positive emotions, but she left him baffled at the apparent ease she had in physically touching him. Perhaps it was a cultural thing. Japanese were a fairly reserved kind of people, and Shirou was a prime example. Direct physical contact was certainly not a taboo, but they tended to give it a deeper meaning to things such as holding hands in public or even just in general.

It was probably just a notion that Medea didn't share or maybe in her country, during her time, it was a common thing and Shirou was over thinking the entire event.

Besides, it wasn't like it had been a negative experience at all.

"Hm, it smells wonderful as usual," Medea declared as she entered the room, still toweling her hair as she approached the red-haired teen. Shirou had to make a conscious effort not to stare at how her purple locks stuck to her still partially damp skin as well as to ignore the scent of shampoo that drifted up his nose, barely covered up by the smell of food. "Do you need any help with that?"

"Ah, no. I'm almost done here. Have a seat. I'll be there in a moment."

As promised, not a minute later dinner was served, just moments before Taiga arrived. Shirou was glad for his surrogate sister's acceptance of the situation. While he was ready to wipe her memories if she hadn't been able to handle the revelations of a few nights prior, it would have pained him greatly to do so.

The ravenous teacher might have been a nuisance nine times out of ten, but her heartwarming presence was something Shirou realized he treasured only when he had risked losing it. He would probably never change his attitude toward her, just like she wouldn't change hers, but beneath that exterior he knew what his feelings were.

Dinner was consumed in loud company, just like any event where Taiga was involved, with the television chattering in the background, barely audible. Taiga was in the middle of ranting about how her grandfather's men couldn't look after themselves when Shirou noticed the images on the screen. If he hadn't been looking in that direction he would have missed it entirely.

"What the…?" He reached for the remote, increasing the sound and interrupting the ongoing conversation.

_" … the funeral of Tohno Makihisa, one of the most influential businessmen in the area, will take place in three days. The heirs have been unreachable for comments as well as…."_

"Well damn," Shirou muttered, lowering the audio again.

"What's wrong?" Taiga asked. "Did you know that person, Shirou?"

"Yes actually, I had a transaction going on with him. Uh, it was almost time for the delivery too," he said with a frown of thought. "Damn it."

"How did it happen?" Medea inquired. "An illness?"

"He seemed fine when I saw him, but that doesn't necessarily mean he was well. Then again, it might just be a cover up for something else."

"Why would you think so?" Taiga asked, tilting her head.

"Well," Shirou began, "the main branch of the Tohno has dabbled at least a little in the supernatural, and since they provided dad with some dangerous _merchandise_ in the past they certainly have a few illegal dealings going on. Things like that are bound to make you some dangerous enemies, and that on top of their known legal business avenue, which was definite cause for some people to benefit from his death."

"So you're saying that his death was not of natural causes," Medea concluded.

"I'm saying that even if it wasn't, it would be mostly likely hushed up and dealt with internally in the same manner."

"Sounds like something grandfather would do," Taiga agreed. "Our family isn't nearly as big or well off as the Tohno, but if such a thing were to happen the authorities would likely not be aware of the truth, though they might suspect if there were obvious repercussions."

"Uh, sometimes I forget that Raiga-san is a Yakuza," Shirou muttered.

"Well, gramps isn't all that keen on violence, and the times when Yakuza were just criminals are long gone. Now my family's businesses are all legal… mostly," she finished with a wry grin.

"If you don't mind, Fuji-nee, could you please ask Raiga-san if he knows anything about this? If Tohno's death was not as natural as it seems, chances are the underworld might have some rumors."

"I could, but Shirou, you don't plan to involve yourself with this too, do you?" Taiga asked with concern. "Aren't the troubles here in Fuyuki enough for you?"

"I'm already involved," Shirou retorted. "I'll have to contact Tohno's daughter if the materials aren't delivered soon, and frankly if he was killed there's also a small chance that whomever did it might go after his business associates as well. Since I met him just a little over two weeks ago I'm certainly high on the list of his most recent clients. If there is a potential threat coming from that direction I'd do well to be ready of it."

"That's what I was afraid of," Taiga moaned. "Well, stubborn as you are you'll probably go ahead with whatever plans you cook up regardless of the risk so I can at least make sure you're as prepared as possible. But Shirou…"

"What?"

"You are going to owe a week's worth of my preferred dishes for this. Triple servings."

"And that's how I finally went bankrupt," Shirou winced, faking displeasure. The he smiled. "Thank you, Fuji-nee."

"Well, someone has to look after my stupid little brother after all," Taiga replied, her smile wide and warm.

* * *

><p>That night, Shirou's sleep was as restless as expected.<p>

His mind had begun to process the memories he received from Waver and though he couldn't make heads or tail of them, he had a few glimpses of a tall, muscled man with a loud laughter and a proud look. Everything else was a blur, sometimes a violent one. He caught flashes of explosions and more than a little blood.

Emotions swirled in a chaotic mess with deep dark tinges and few light ones. Even then there was a sense of underlying fondness for all of it. No matter how a nasty business the Fourth War had been, Waver Velvet seemed to have found a measure of purpose in it.

Shirou woke up barely rested; his eyelids felt heavier with each second. He had managed to function in worse conditions though, and besides he had no time to waste. Training with Kuzuki-sensei had been picking up and Medea had finally started teaching the basics of her Item Creation.

The latter wasn't as exciting as one might have thought. There was a lot of complex theory that Shirou needed to learn before he could even begin to make even the simplest codes, not to mention he lacked the experience of actually crafting something. Medea too had little knowledge on working on metals, which were the most obvious material to make blades.

Seeing as metals required the most complex equipments to be worked and that she had lived most of her life on the move, running from this or that persecutor, she had little opportunity to lean that particular skill. She either usually enchanted blades made by others, usually exceptional weapons before her modifications, but she actually specialized more in brewing potions and working clothes or leather which were easier to come by, transport and work with.

Overall, that meant that even with a fully equipped Workshop it would be a learning experience for the both of them, one that was likely to take several months before it bore any fruit worthy of notice. Sadly, such was the life of a Magus.

On the other hand, Shirou's daily beating at the hands of the former Assassin finally started to give results, though not the sort his teacher had expected.

"You need to be faster, Emiya-kun," Kuzuki reprimanded in his monotone voice, giving Shirou time to catch his breath after the third consecutive blow which landed almost unhindered. "Stop reacting to my movements and start predicting them."

Easier said than done. The gap in ability between the two of them was like heaven and earth. No matter how Shirou looked at it, without the advantages granted by Magecraft he was nowhere near the league of his teacher.

This difficulty was further enhanced by the face he lacked any compatibility with this particular style of combat. Shirou's very nature lacked the viciousness necessary to make deadly strikes without proper motivation.

As someone who treasured every life more than he did his own, he knew he would never be proficient in something that was meant to cut other lives short.

Now, if it were his life alone that was being put at risk he could deal with it. Maybe if he used his life as his weapon, putting it on the line to sneak past the opponent's defense…

…it was reckless. One could call it even suicidal, but still…

"It seems like you just make a breakthrough, Emiya-kun," the teacher said, noticing the look in his eyes.

"Perhaps," he replied, still short for breath.

"Let us test it, then."

This declaration was all the warning that Shirou had to prepare. He was not nearly as ready as he would have liked, and while he somewhat managed to divert the most vicious blows a number of them still landed painfully. Reacting while being hit was not feasible, as attacking only opened further holes in his guard.

Yet there had to be a way: a way to best a stronger opponent; a way to turn an impossible defense into an efficient offense.

But how could he realize such a thing if the gap in their skills was so high that he couldn't predict his opponent's attacks, while all of his openings were being read instead?

… His openings? … Reading his openings?

_The snake_ relied heavily on fake attacks that twisted into deadly blows after having been avoided or blocked once. Shirou already knew that wasn't suited for that. He was someone who protected, not someone who brought harm.

So if he wasn't suited for a fake offense then perhaps…

… a fake opening would do?

* * *

><p>The shift was subtle, but Kuzuki's expert eyes didn't miss it. Emiya's eyes narrowed, his balance changed and his guard changed as well.<p>

Yet his openings, different as they might have been from before, were still glaringly obvious. Adeptly he changed stance and went for these new holes in his pupil's guard. His punch went for the face and was predictably deflected. Emiya's ability was at least good enough to sustain the first layer of his offense, while his defense lacked from the second layer onward.

With his fist still stretched, Kuzuki twisted his arm and went for the exposed temple, seeking the weak point…

… and was instead met by a defense like a steel wall. Emiya's arm had moved into the way of the blow, efficiently closing the previously wide-open gap.

Being trained to react before thinking as a perfect killing machine, Kuzuki didn't give himself time to be surprised, an alien notion for someone like him, and went straight for the next opening and from there to the next one.

Again and again and again he sought the obvious weaknesses and an equal amount of times his attacks failed, which served only, he realized in hindsight, to open his own guard to a counterattack. He understood then, when his pupil's went for his face, that his student had finally surpassed his limitations.

Unable to predict his opponent's moves because of their disproportionate levels of ability, Emiya took control of the flow of the battle by offering openings of his own choice, exposing himself and putting himself at risk to even otherwise impossible the odds. It was a ridiculously dangerous way of fighting, reckless to the point of idiocy. Yet, in spite of that Emiya Shirou had reached him, much to his disbelief, through sheer conviction alone.

Almost.

Before the punch actually connected, Kuzuki caught it mere millimeters from the landing point. Emiya's victorious expression changed rapidly to one of abject disappointment… for the tenth of a second that it took for his teacher to turn his wrist-hold into a throw that sent the hapless teenager flying through the dojo to land painfully on his back.

* * *

><p>"Ugh," Shirou moaned, twisting his back in pain. "I failed again."<p>

"… No," Kuzuki-sensei replied after a moment of pondering silence. "It was certainly an ineffective attempt but the theory was not wrong. Controlling the flow of the battle like you did is certainly an effective way to achieve victory but it isn't something that can be mastered in a single try. However, there should be no need for me to say how reckless this fake opening style actually is, Emiya-kun. Do you realize that?"

"Yeah," the redhead groaned, dragging himself to a seated position. "Do you think I should drop it?"

"No," his sensei replied bluntly. "As you teacher, as long as you are aware of the risks involved, then there is no reason for you to renounce it, nor for me to tell you to do so. In fact, this self-sacrificing style might actually be suited for someone like you. However, if that's the case it is I who is unsuited to teach. If you wish to pursue this path then you will have to do it on your own."

"What? But I don't know anyone else who could spar with me."

"You misunderstand," Kuzuki's monotone voice stated. "I'm not saying I won't teach or spar with you anymore, simply that I cannot teach you that style. Since you are just beginning with it I would recommend that you find someone around your level to improve it with."

"But it's a way to fight those who are stronger than me," Shirou retorted.

"Once mastered, perhaps. But right now it's just a method to get you killed faster. Polish it until you can confidently control the direction of your opponent's attacks, and only then develop your counters. Furthermore, being able to predict your opponent is still a necessity for you. There are no shortcuts on the path to becoming stronger."

"So, what now?"

"Now I'll continue attacking you until you learn to predict my movements," the teacher said without remorse or malice. "Get ready."

"Sensei, wait just a- GWOH!"

Needless to say, Emiya Shirou's day continued in pain. His small achievement didn't help to lessen it in the slightest.

* * *

><p>After a few days without news, Shirou contacted the Tohno asking for his materials. As he had suspected, there had been some small holdups that postponed the delivery to around the first days of the new school year.<p>

Tohno Makihisa's death was a sad event and a minor annoyance that became a bit worse when Taiga confirmed that yes, there were at least rumors about his passing not being due to natural causes. That alone was a matter of some concern, as he had discussed with his sister a few days prior, but nothing Shirou couldn't handle with proper concern and the right precautions.

All in all it wasn't too much of a bother, especially considering that a few days later an interesting opportunity came up unexpectedly with regards to developing his Thaumaturgy.

"An exhibit?" Medea inquired curiously, peering over Shirou's shoulder at the newspaper he was reading. A small article displayed the upcoming opening of a museum dedicated to Japanese blacksmithing through the ages, with several tools from relatively famous sword-makers.

"Yeah," Shirou confirmed excitedly. "I was thinking that I could try and Trace the skills to work metal from those tools. They aren't swords themselves so I'm not sure how useful they would be, but I could try and grasp a few pointers and then see what I could gather by reading some related books."

"It would be rather convenient," Medea agreed. "Even if it's only a partial knowledge, their history should provide us with a decent head start. However, I'm a bit worried."

"About what?" Shirou's eyebrows furrowed.

"This exhibit will be hosted in Misaki city, won't it?"

"Yes, that's the point. In a single trip I could both complete the transaction with the Tohnos and visit the museum."

"I see," Medea nodded. "And I'm sure you have no interest whatsoever in… _this_!"

The purple haired woman turned the newspaper to the first page, where the headlines reported a string of strange disappearances thought to be serial murders that had been taking place in the very same city for a few days.

"Well, what can I say?" Shirou sweatdropped. He had been busted immediately.

"Honestly," Medea huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your propensity to stick your nose in dangerous situations is beyond my ability to comprehend."

"Ah, come on," Shirou held up his hands pleadingly, "I'm probably just going to make a few rounds of the city at night to see if I catch a glimpse of something. I don't have any reliable contact in Misaki, so I don't think I will fare much better than the police."

"Shirou… don't take me for a fool. Don't pretend you haven't seen this," Medea narrowed her eyes while at the same time tapping her finger angrily on a single word of the article.

The kanji read _Kyuketsuki_, vampire, the nickname the press had given to the mysterious murderer.

"There's no proof the killer is actually a Dead Apostle," Shirou frowned. "If he was, he's pretty sloppy to have been identified as such by mundane authorities, and in that case either the Clock Tower or the Church would have dispatched their agents to deal with the situation. Heck, they probably would have done it just to be safe."

"And that's exactly the problem," Medea swatted him over the head for his lack of thoughtfulness. "It's irrelevant if this murderer is actually a Dead Apostle or not. Somebody is bound to have already taken notice of this case and begun looking into it. If you get caught snooping around you would be in a lot of trouble."

"I get it, you're right." Shirou replied rubbing his head sheepishly. "I didn't think about it that way. I'm going to keep my head low."

"That's just not good enough, Shirou. If you're really going to Misaki, then promise me you'll keep away from this entire business entirely."

"… No."

"Excuse me?" Medea blinked.

"I said no." Shirou's face was steely. "I'm not going to just ignore it if there's something I can do to help. If there is a way I can save lives I'm not going to turn my back on it."

"You… you… you unreasonably stubborn fool," the Servant sighed, resignation clear in her voice. "There is no way I can change your mind, is there?"

"No, not likely," Shirou admitted scratching his head and sounding apologetic. "I'm sorry. I really can't turn my back on things I believe I have to do."

"I can't really complain about it either. If you weren't the fool you are I wouldn't be here right now. At least promise me you'll be careful, and give me a couple days to complete something I've been working on for a while."

"I promise I will, and don't worry about the time. I don't plan to leave before the start of the school term."

"I'll have to get back to work immediately anyway. I can't predict the next time you'll dive head first in a potentially deadly situation," Medea huffed, standing to her feet.

"I don't look that suicidal, do I?"

The answer was a definitely unamused raised eyebrow shot in his direction from the female Magus before she left the room. Shirou was left to grumble that trying to be a Hero got him no respect at all.

* * *

><p>Two days went by and Shirou booked a hotel for a couple of days the day after the next so that he could at least attend the new school year's opening ceremony. Taiga wasn't too keen on letting her ward skip school even though his grades could allow it. Being a Wizard Vigilante was not an excuse to ditch his education.<p>

In the meantime, the newspapers hadn't reported any new murder or disappearance. As such, Shirou wasn't exactly in a hurry to leave even as he paid attention to any minor rumor over the Internet and through the police's network via Dojima.

Upon Shirou's request to inform him about the evolvements of the situation in Misaki, Dojima asked jokingly if it was the work of an actual vampire. The answer that vampires did actually exist and they were of alien origin, of all things, left the detective entirely unamused as his perception of reality crumbled even further. When Dojima's desk needed to be replaced, that day, rumors among his colleagues were that the desk had shattered under repetitive, vicious strikes of an item roughly of the shape of a human skull.

Wisely, they came to agree that it was better not to investigate what could have made the unshakable hard-ass detective flip so badly and they went on with their day. Ignorance was bliss after all, a notion with which Dojima would have agreed for the first time in his life.

The day for school to begin again arrived and Shirou was faced with another minor dilemma: the very visible Command Seal on his hand, as well as the easily perceivable leak of Prana that went from him to Caster at all times. There was just no way any Magus would miss it except under the Boundary Field around the Emiya household, which for hiding purposes was designed to absorb all residues of Prana beneath it, even its own, thus muting all but the most potent surges of power.

Thankfully, Medea came through for him.

"What's this exactly?" Shirou asked, eyeing the small leather bracelet Medea had given him.

"I have been examining the Grail's workings in the past few weeks," Medea explained. "The binding system of the Command Seal isn't overly complex even if it contains an astounding amount of raw power. I devised a system to dampen it enough to be unnoticed and I engraved it on the back of that bracelet. See the small runic array on the inside?"

Shirou squinted his eyes as much as he could and even used Reinforcement to augment his vision. Only then he managed to see that there actually was something akin to runes written all over its inner surface. Even with Reinforcement, they were so minuscule that he was having a hard time reading them properly.

"How did you manage to engrave runes so small? Besides, is something as common and flimsy as leather going to be enough to shut off the Command Seals?"

"Mage from the Age of Gods, remember?" Medea asked pointing at herself, pride evident in her voice. "Besides, that's no common leather. It comes from the deer you hunted yourself and has been soaking in your blood for days. If it's your Command Seal that it has to hide, then it will work exceedingly well."

"Well, thank you then," Shirou said, moving to place it around his arm.

"Wait a second," she warned. "It doesn't come without drawbacks. While you're wearing it you are effectively closing the flow of Prana between us and you'll have to remove it in order to use the Command Seal."

"But that means that if something happens you won't have enough energy to defend yourself," the redhead protested. He motioned as if he wanted to give it back. "It's not worth it. I'd rather face Tohsaka sooner than put you in danger."

"Don't be an idiot now," Medea reprimanded him, though she had a strange expression on her face. "It's only while you are at school and no one would attack me during the day. Grail War or not, Magi don't operate in plain sight nowadays. Besides, my Prana reserves are full right now and are going to remain so unless I start casting seriously, and you can be certain that if something life threatening happens I'll be at least able to flee and contact you. Don't over concern yourself about me, will you?"

"Okay. If you think you're going to be fine then I trust you," he said, slapping the bracelet on his wrist.

A stabbing pain went through his arm and slowly the Command Seal on his hand vanished. Well, not really. It was still there if one looked closely, but as long as he didn't go waving the back of his hand in front of other people's faces it would go unnoticed.

With that little problem dealt with, Shirou could return to school without worrying about being found out.

That didn't mean there weren't going to be surprises, of course.

* * *

><p>Timing, Shirou knew, was the one thing that was never really on his side. Maybe he was cursed; maybe it was just plain bad luck. The fact remained that where he was concerned, when it rained it damn well poured.<p>

He realized as much as soon as he stepped past the school gates. He froze mid-step, eyes wide.

Countless students passed him by, some even bumping against him, telling him to move out of the way. He ignored them completely, taken as he was in examining this new sensation.

A strong, overwhelming presence filled the air, almost crushing him with its weight. It was something Shirou had experienced already once before, though it was severely lessened and with a different scent. It was the sensation he had perceived the night he first met Medea of Colchis. It was the unmistakable presence of a Servant.

And then, among the crowd, walking casually side by side with Tohsaka Rin, his eyes found _hers_.

Gold met green, and even though he had never met her before, never even seen her before, Emiya Shirou just _knew_ this person though even her name was a mystery.

And so, as their eyes remained locked long enough for her to notice it wasn't just a passing glance, Emiya Shirou's brain went into high gear trying to figure out a way to come out of this situation, all the more so now that even Tohsaka had seen him and noticed his shock.

Things never did go as planned, did they?

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN: not much to say about this chapter. Might add other notes later on, but probably not. As usual ask your questions in the apposite forum.<p>

See ya.


	24. Stolen Sword

**Chapter 23 – Stolen Sword**  
>(Published: 05.17.13 - Beta: RavingScholar, twinkieman92 )<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Two days before the start of the school term – April 3rd<strong>

The moon shone brightly in the skies above the city of Fuyuki.

In the old mansion, the twin tailed girl stood in front of the carefully drawn circle. Her features set in a determined frown, mind steeled for the coming challenge, she stepped forward, one hand stretched in front of her.

Within her mind, a knife stabbed her chest right through her heart. In response, a hundred Circuits flared to life, channeling a staggering amount of Prana. Arcane words rolled out of her mouth.

**_"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg."_**

The circle hummed and illuminated the room with a faint bluish hue, lightning bolts crackling at its edge.

**_"The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate."_**

In the enclosed space a strong wind picked up, ruffling her hair and clothes.

**_"Shut (fill)_****. ****_Shut (fill)_****. ****_Shut (fill)_****. ****_Shut (fill)_****. ****_Shut (fill)_****. ****_Repeat every five times. Simply, shatter once filled._****"**

The air simmered above the circle, twisting in preparation to receive the presence that had yet to materialize.

**_"I announce. Yourself is under me, my fate (doom) is in your sword."_**

* * *

><p>In the empty void, she waited. Time had lost all meaning, space was but a subjective concept, but even though she could wait eternally the absolute emptiness that surrounded her was becoming unsettling.<p>

Silently she wondered how long she would have to wait in the darkness before the opportunity came.

Then, her unspoken question found an answer.

**_"I announce. Yourself is under me, my fate (doom) is in your sword."_**

The voice was different from the last one, yet she heard it clearly nonetheless.

**"In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer."**

And answer she would. A push came from what could arguably considered _behind,_ propelling her toward an equally arguable _forward_.

**"Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead; I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead."**

A light opened before her and she could see again, hear again, smell again. The consistency of a body given shape once more assaulted her senses.

**"You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"**

Light engulfed her.

* * *

><p>The air expanded with the sound of an explosion and an eerie smoke filled the room.<p>

"Did it work?" the teen Magus wondered aloud.

"I ask of you," a voice from the centre of the smoke came to answer her question. "Are you my Master?"

Slowly the smoke cleared to reveal the presence of a girl, or perhaps a boy, clad in a blue and a refined armor. Green eyes framed by regal features peered into hers, compelling an answer.

Tohsaka Rin's lips quirked into a victorious smirk. "I am."

"I am Servant Saber," the girl in blue continued firmly. "In response to your summons, I have come. My sword will be at your side from here on out. From now on, whatever fate awaits you awaits me. The accord with us has now been struck."

"Welcome, Saber," the magus said in a tone that betrayed her satisfaction. "I'm Tohsaka Rin. The two of us are going to do great things together."

It was done. She had actually summoned Saber, the best Class in the Holy Grail War.

She was a genius, of course, but that didn't mean she would get the Servant she wanted. After all, unless presented with a proper Catalyst, which she didn't have, the Grail selected a Heroic Spirit suited for the Master's character. In both cases, though, the Class would be assigned by picking one among those not yet occupied by other Servants and suited for the Heroic Spirit's abilities. With Caster and Berserker already summoned, she had had her pick between Saber, Lancer, Archer, Rider and Assassin.

The first three, the so-called Knight Classes, were arguably the most powerful and therefore the most sought out. Among those three, the Saber Class was considered to be the best and she had just summoned it. It had been a difficult time since her kidnapping at the hand of Guilford, but now that she had actually succeeded in her task she almost felt like it had been worth it. Almost.

And speaking of Guilford, it would be best to bring her Servant up to speed immediately.

"Come with me, Saber. I'll show you around the house."

The servant looked around, taking in the appearance and layout of the Tohsaka household. Rin showed her around, detailing the defenses around the mansion while she in turn examined her newest familiar. Saber was not like anything she expected a Heroic Spirit to look like.

She appeared to be a girl in her teens of average height. She could have been called _cute_ if not for the regality of her features framed by blond locks collected in a bun on the back of her head, which made her positively beautiful. As expected from a Heroic Spirit, though, her posture was confident and proud, and her green eyes were as sharp as the blade that named her class. Her presence too was overwhelming, a kind of pressure Rin had experienced in a much-lessened way only in the presence of Caster weeks before. If she had to trust her instincts, Saber was in an entirely different league from the only other Servant she had had the chance to meet.

When the tour of the house was over, Rin led Saber to the living room.

"Would you like some tea?" the young Magus asked. For a brief moment she considered asking her Servant to prepare it, seeing as Servants were meant to serve, but she immediately realized that Saber would not take kindly to a request to perform such a menial task.

Her body language was so clear that even the dumbest moron could understand it clearly. Perhaps Rin was just being overwhelmed by the evident charisma of her Servant, but it didn't change the fact that while Saber might indeed be a Servant, she was definitely not a mere servant. Just her presence outlined that difference quite clearly.

"I would appreciate it," Saber replied with the hint of a smile. "Thank you."

Well, she was polite at least. Rin expected and was ready to deal with a Servant who would challenge her on a personal level, as it was natural from a being that surpassed humanity on all levels. Yet, while Saber seemed to be commanding in her own right it didn't seem like she wanted to hold it over Rin's head. If anything, with the formalities of the summoning ritual out of the way she seemed to be particularly collected and somewhat lost in thought, as if she were bothered by an unexpected occurrence.

* * *

><p>Saber looked around in silence, examining the mansion. It was most certainly not the place she had caught a glimpse of when she had first been called, just as the person who summoned her now was not the one she first reached out to.<p>

She could feel her current Master's power flow through her and she wasn't disappointed with it in the slightest. The flow of Prana was steady and intense, fueling her existence and abilities to the fullest. Still, that didn't change the fact that it was different from the feeling she had felt earlier, whenever earlier actually was.

The voice that had first reached out to her had a familiar quality to it, though she could not tell to whom it belonged. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she had the impression that the one who had first attempted to summon her shared with her at least some compatible traits that her current Master lacked.

What had happened to that person? Had he been interrupted before he could complete the ritual? Perhaps he had been killed by one of the other Servants. She couldn't exclude that possibility.

Of course that was mere speculation. She didn't know what happened back then, and though she was curious it didn't change the fact that she had given her oath to the girl who had welcomed her into her house and entrusted her with her life.

As a Knight, she would keep her word to her death, regardless of circumstances.

* * *

><p>Five minutes later, both girls sat at the table in the finely furnished living room, each with a cup of tea in hand.<p>

"While I would like to know your name and your abilities," Rin began, "there is something else we need to discuss first. I am not sure what knowledge the Grail has granted you, but I know for a fact that the current war is not occurring as scheduled."

"Please, elaborate on that," the Servant requested calmly, though Rin detected a hint of something that was more than mere curiosity. "The information the Grail provided me doesn't mention any changes."

"I thought so. To begin with, according to what I could gather with the current supervisor, the actual start of the War is still months away," Rin explained, supporting her right elbow with her left hand and raising a single finger in a lecturing manner. "For some reason the Grail had an amount of leftover energy from the previous war, and is therefore starting fifty years sooner than expected. Normally that wouldn't be too much of a bother, but as I understand it one of the other founding families, the Einzbern, has tampered with the Grail so that it would allow them to summon their Servant, Berserker, earlier than expected. As a result the Grail is assigning a new set of Command Seals every six to eight weeks."

"I didn't know that tampering with the Grail was possible at all," the Servant admitted. There was a troubled expression on her face, and justifiably so. Servants pledged their loyalties to human beings, arguably much inferior beings, so that they could compete to fulfill their wish. If it were possible to tamper with the Grail in a single way, it was hard to tell in what other ways it could have been done. Fighting a war only to discover that the prize for their efforts was no longer worth it was not a nice thought.

"Neither did I," Rin admitted. "And I would have been ignorant of it all if I hadn't stumbled into Caster a few weeks back."

"You met an enemy Servant already and came out alive?" the blond Servant asked, divided between being alarmed and being surprised at Rin's survival. The Magus couldn't blame Saber for her disbelief, as she was painfully aware that the only reason she survived her encounter with Caster was because the Servant had no interest in killing her. Rather, she probably wanted her to live and escape just to spite her Master. "How did you manage such a feat?"

"It's a bit of a long story," Rin replied. "Then again, it's not like we are short of time anyway."

The next few hours were spent retelling the events that led to the confrontation between her and Caster's Master. She skimmed the details about Yukiko's kidnapping and subsequent rescue, as they weren't strictly relevant. She also made no mention of Emiya and his participation in the early part of Guilford's plot. That was a bit more relevant considering that usual nightly escapades could cause him to witness things he wasn't supposed to, but that was another problem that had to be dealt with at another time.

She instead focused on explaining how Guilford used her friend as bait to kidnap her, how he tried to enslave her and how she ultimately escaped from him. She also confirmed that Caster was still in the game, having in all likelihood forged a contract with her Master's killer. By the end of her tale Saber was even more thoughtful than before.

"I see. That's indeed troubling news. Regardless of what her intentions for you at the time might have been, now that you're officially a Master Caster has become an enemy to watch out for."

"Of course," Rin nodded. "I am unsure as to why she never tried to recapture me. Chances are that she'll probably bide her time and wait for the competition to eliminate itself instead of proactively engaging in battle. As much as it pains me to admit it, as a Master I'm already a known factor, so it's easier for a Magus who reached the rank of Heroic Spirit to keep an eye on me from a distance without me noticing."

"This is troubling," the Servant of the Sword said with a hint of worry. "In a war, knowing the battlefield and the opposition beforehand are both major advantages. With weeks at her disposal there is no telling which sort of traps she might have laid out for us. Thanks to your capacity as a Magus, my own Magic Resistance is ranked A+ right now, so I'm not really worried about being subjected to any direct Magecraft. Of course, the same cannot be said for you and as you certainly know there is more to the Craft than simple direct offense."

"Yes, I know," the Magus admitted, recalling her bad experience with Guilford's _invasive_ Magecraft. "Well, at least now that you are here I can rest peacefully again. It was tiring to sleep with one eye open."

"I can imagine," Saber agreed sympathetically. "You don't need to worry anymore. From now on I shall keep a vigil while you rest."

"And just in time for school as well. With you following me in spirit form, we can keep an eye out for other Servants and Masters," she said proudly, content with the course of action she had chosen. At her Servant's silence, she blinked in confusion. "… Something wrong, Saber?"

"Actually Master, about that…"

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, the Master of Saber was rubbing her temples in a vain attempt to quell her anger and oncoming headache.<p>

"So, you're saying that because someone attempted to summon you earlier than I did, my own summoning ritual didn't work perfectly and now you're stuck in your physical form?"

"I can only suppose that is the case," Saber agreed.

It was a convenient lie, the Servant thought to herself. Her true reason for not being able to shift into her Spiritual Body was because she didn't actually have one. She wasn't even a proper Heroic Spirit yet, nor would she become one if she obtained her wish, but her Master didn't need to know that. It was a personal matter and the truth was not relevant to the coming war; as long as her Master knew of her limitations, there was no need for the details.

Fortunately, in one fell swoop she had managed to report the odd event she had been part of and conceal the reason for her inability to move to the spiritual plane. She didn't like deceiving her Master but it wouldn't cause her any harm, nor it was something she could change by being truthful. She also considered refraining from revealing her identity until it was actually needed, but her Master seemed to be capable enough to protect that knowledge. Not to mention that with the odd behavior of the Grail, it was paramount to prepare in advance tactics based on Saber's strengths and weaknesses.

"Damn it. Why can't anything go as planned for once? I swear, if I ever manage to get my hands on those interlopers I'm going to strangle them," Rin raged. Then she slumped back and sighed in resignation. "Well, even though I feel like I've stolen someone else's sword, at least I get to have the King of Knights as my Servant. Off the top of my head I can hardly imagine a hero more renowned than you. I'm a bit surprised that you are a woman, though. Were the people of your time blind not to realize your gender?"

"There were… circumstances," Saber said, a plethora of meanings hidden within her slight pause.

"I can only imagine," the Magus shrugged. "Anyway, this is a problem. There's no way I can go to school without taking you with me. It would make summoning you entirely useless."

"Is it necessary for you to attend at all?" she inquired politely.

"If it were just for the two weeks that the Holy Grail War usually lasts, then it would have been a nuisance but nothing I couldn't deal with afterward. With months ahead of us before the conflict is finally solved, the consequences would be too large for me to just skip it. It would raise too many questions, not to mention that I would have to repeat the year," Rin finished with finality. High school was bad enough once.

"Master, your academic career shouldn't take priority over your safety," Saber reprimanded. There was always time to study later if one lived past the war.

"That goes without saying," Rin agreed, much to Saber's satisfaction. Heaven forbid her Master was such a fool that she would put herself at risk just to attend classes. "Therefore we need to find a solution… and I think I have the perfect one."

The all too amused look in Rin's eyes let Saber know that she probably wouldn't like whatever plan her Master had come up with.

* * *

><p><strong>The next morning<strong>

Truth be told, Rin didn't actually think that it would work so well. Saber was certainly a girl and a beautiful one at that. Her regal features and her innate charisma would have made her the centre of the attention in any circumstance, but the young Magus never thought those traits would have carried over even when wearing-

"Master, what exactly is this?"

- her spare uniform.

They were around the same height, and even their chest size (_ugh_), was more or less the same. What Rin didn't expect was that Saber would look so damn cute in it. It didn't even make sense to her how astoundingly attractive Saber actually was when wearing common clothes. She looked so…

Utterly.

_Molestable_!

…

Wait, no, that was wrong. She shouldn't think of her Servant like that.

… Forget that! She shouldn't think of any girl like that! What was wrong with her?

"A school uniform," the Magus replied, holding back a smile of amusement and concealing her own inner doubts. "If I can't skip school then I have to get you in there somehow. Lucky for us you look like a teenager, so it won't be difficult to have you pass for a transfer student. I'll just have to use a bit of compulsion to have the right paperwork done under an assumed name and we are all set."

"… I cannot argue with your plan," Saber said with a nod of the head. "So long as I'm in a position to protect you, I'll abide with your decisions."

"Good," Rin nodded approvingly. "Tomorrow is the first day of the new year. In the meantime, I'd better start preparing the fake paperwork and identifications. Do you have a preference for the name?"

"I shall be fine with whatever you will decide, Master," Saber conceded.

* * *

><p><strong>Later that day<strong>

"I am most certainly _not_ fine with your decision, Master!" Saber protested, looking at the ID and enrollment forms that Rin had provided and compiled for her.

"Oh? What's wrong with it?" Rin asked, far too amused at her Servant's distress. It was a bit of a disturbing thought, but perhaps having had Kirei as a teacher had affected her character somehow. Indeed, she enjoyed seeing people squirm far too much.

"The name you have chosen, Master," Saber said resolutely, undoubtedly aware of her Master's amusement.

"Why? I think it's perfect. _'Ginevra A. Dulac'_, British nationality, transfer student, " she read, snatching the sheets from Saber's hands.

"It is not," Saber replied, hand held out demanding the papers' return. "For one thing, why did you choose such a name? It is far too close to my true history."

"Misinformation," Rin replied, dutifully returning the papers. "No one would think you are actually the King of Knights since your legend refers to you as a man, and none of the other Masters would think we would actually use a pseudonym connected to your true history. Even if they considered it, your gender would send them for a merry chase trying to figure out who you actually are."

"Still…"

"Or perhaps it's because of who they were?" Rin continued, a glimmer of regret in her eyes. "Your legend says that Lancelot betrayed you, so I thought that no one would consider that the King of Knights would actually use the assumed name of his most trusted knight turned traitor. Sorry, perhaps it was out of line for me to pick those names."

"No… no, it's fine. I understand your reasoning. Sadly, the circumstances and our enemies drove us apart, but I'm not ashamed to bear their names, even if it's just a pretense. Still," she glared, "I would rather prefer it if you consulted me before deciding on something so outrageous."

"It was you who said you'd be fine with whatever I came up with," Rin pointed out mischievously. Yup, it was definitely Kirei's influence…she suddenly felt like taking a long, cleansing shower.

"I underestimated your wickedness, Master," Saber replied resignedly. "You would have made a fine witch back in my time with a character like that."

"…," Rin winced silently. _Curse you, Kirei_. "Anyway, that will have to do. Come now, if you're to attend school we have to get you all the things you need to blend in."

The rest of the afternoon was spent shopping for school gear, which included some spare uniforms for Saber. Of course, they didn't limit themselves to that. In preparation for the coming conflict they bought several maps of the city to annotate at will, a few jewels for Rin to replenish her stock, and lastly several medical kits. Since Rin didn't possess any outstanding healing Magecraft and the chances of being wounded were fairly high if not a given, they couldn't be too careful.

They talked at length about the war, of course, but besides dividing the city into areas to patrol each day in search of suspicious Boundary Fields they couldn't do much else. Because the majority of the other Servants had yet to be summoned, there wasn't any useful intel to work with. Much as Rin hated it, they were stalled.

Soon evening came and with it arose the issues of sleeping arrangements. Well, it wasn't exactly an issue.

"Master, as a Servant I don't require sleep," Saber explained. "You provide me with more than enough energy to remain awake and functional indefinitely."

"I know that, but that's not the point. Normally if you shifted into spirit form I would have more energy to pour into my jewels, but seeing how you can't do that you're draining more energy than I'd anticipated. I need to prepare as many weapons as I can for the conflict, and I can spare a lot more energy for that purpose if you conserve what you have by sleeping at least as much as I do. Besides, not even a Servant can sneak past my Boundary Fields with the exception of Assassin, but for the next six weeks no other Servant is going to be summoned and I don't think Caster will make a move against me now since she hasn't already."

"… You make a good point. Conserving energy is always a wise choice when feasible. I shall abide by your decision," Saber affirmed with a nod of her head.

"Great. I'll prepare one of the guests room for you."

"No, that won't do," Saber protested. "Master, if I am to protect you properly then I need to be as close to you as possible. Certainly in the same room, and preferably in the same bed."

"But the guest room is just next to mine," Rin pointed out.

"It's irrelevant," Saber metaphorically put her foot down. "Even if no Servant or Magus can get past your wards undetected, they could very well strike from afar before either of us has any chance to react. Only if I am by your side at all times can I most efficiently guarantee your safety."

"Uh, well, if you're so adamant about it then I don't see why not," Rin agreed somewhat reluctantly. "My bed is big enough for two and we're both girls so even that's not an issue."

Saber was right. There was no reason to take a chance with separate rooms or beds, but it was still a foreign concept for the teen Magus. She had never even had a sleepover with other girls before. Her magus upbringing pretty much shut out all unnecessary interactions with her peers. She only started hanging out with girls from her school because she had living relatives, plus there was no way she wanted her social circle to consist of only Kirei. She couldn't fail to see how well that had worked out.

"I'm glad you see things my way," Saber acquiesced.

And that's how Rin came to have the first sleepover of her young life, even if it was at her own house. It wasn't unpleasant, and she had a good laugh at her Servant's expense when she forced her to wear one of her pajamas. She certainly couldn't sleep well if her companion was clad in armor, after all.

Saber's addition to Rin's life was surprisingly smooth. They both were highly intelligent, no-nonsense women. For the teen Magus, who only had a less than pleasant priest as a confidant, suddenly having a person of the same gender whom she could trust with most, if not all, of her secrets was a more than pleasant change. Even though she would never admit it aloud and hardly even to herself, Rin had been starving for a close and trusted companion. For a moment her thoughts went to the teenage boy who had bared his secrets to her without fears. It would have been nice to get closer to him as well.

She immediately dispelled such thoughts, returning to her perfectly cultivated Magus mindset. With the war looming just over the horizon that path was no longer an option. In fact she would probably have to approach him and erase all recent information of her from his mind, as well as dissuade him from continuing his nighttime activities. It was for his own good, after all. Running into a Servant or even just a Master would spell certain death for the young man she had come to consider almost a friend. It pained her, but it had to be done.

At the first opportunity she would invite him over for tea as a last chance to hang out as friends, and then wipe his memories.

It was for the best.

* * *

><p>Rin walked to school with <em>Ginevra<em> that morning, going over the way the Japanese school system functioned as well as the social customs she would have to abide by during her stay at school. As it turned out, the Grail did provide them with enough knowledge to blend into society almost smoothly, which included a certain amount of information on school related topics. Combined with Saber's own education as a King in matters of mathematics and economy, she would be able to blend into her apparent age group seamlessly.

Of course, dealing with the popularity issues of being an attractive foreign transfer student was an entirely different matter, but Rin was certain that Saber had long since developed the skill to keep people at a distance seeing as her charisma was better than what Rin had been able to cultivate in her short life.

If they worked together, at least the male half of the school would be scared away from the overwhelming combined attractiveness that, as teenage boys knew at an instinctual level, they couldn't get close to without being crushed mercilessly by their own insecurities and- _Curse you, Kirei!_

"Is something the matter, Rin?" Saber asked, her keen eyes noticing the subtle shifts in her Master's almost perfect façade.

"No," the Magus replied evenly, forcefully swallowing a groan, "just thinking about the worth of my usual acquaintances, that's all."

"I understand," the King nodded sagely, "sometimes we have to deal with unpleasant characters whether we wish to or not."

At her side, Rin nodded in agreement. Having someone who understood her at such a basic level was most definitely a boon. It would certainly help her stress levels to have Saber around for a few months.

With that cheerful perspective in front of her, Rin was more than ready to face the challenges of mundane school life, certain that nothing could shake her newfound securities.

Oh if only she knew that she shared the same levels of luck as another unfortunate teenager as far as planning went, she might have not considered such thoughts and thus spared herself a serious wake up call. Fortunately or unfortunately as it was, she would soon be enlightened as to the true extent of her folly.

* * *

><p>Compared to her times, Saber mused, the current era had a lot more people. As it stood, the population of a city nowadays equaled that of her entire kingdom centuries before. It was good to know that mankind had managed to prosper, but it was a bitter thing to know that it wasn't her kingdom that had come so far.<p>

Used to being surrounded by adoring crowds though she was, Saber felt a little disturbed by the amount of attention drawn to her when they passed the school's gate. True, her appearance was uncommon enough in this country and she guessed that her own innate charisma, which was actually a measurable quantity by the Grail's standards, caused common people to both acknowledge and be intimidated by her more than her unusual looks would have otherwise caused.

People whispered and pointed at her and her Master, but neither of them openly acknowledged any of the surrounding teenagers, though Saber's eyes sharply scanned the crowd searching for possible threats. She found nothing out of the ordinary, no ill intent directed at them. It was unlikely that an enemy was hiding among these young people, especially since according to her Master the war was far from happening yet, but she would still keep her eyes open at all times.

She relaxed slightly, and as she did so her eyes met those of a redheaded young man.

…?

There was something amiss with this person. He didn't break eye contact like the other boys and girls had done when she looked at them. In fact he had basically frozen in his tracks, eyes wide, a bead of sweat making its way down his forehead and along the side of his nose.

At her side, Saber could tell that her Master had noticed this oddity and the twin tailed girl stopped in her tracks as well.

"Emiya-kun?"

As if a trigger had been smashed Saber's stance changed subtly, filling with hostility, ready to face a threat at any given moment.

Emiya, her Master said. Emiya, like her traitorous former Master; Emiya, like the man who stole her wish from right under her nose.

But… it made no sense. This boy couldn't be related to Kiritsugu, could he? He was too old to be a son conceived after the previous war, and Kiritsugu's only child was the white-haired girl he had played with so long ago. Emiya was a Japanese name, after all, and perhaps even relatively common. Furthermore, Rin seemed to be acquainted with him and while she seemed surprised at his odd behavior she didn't seem concerned by his presence.

Perhaps she was acting too rashly. It was better to wait before passing judgment, but she would be keeping her guard up at the same time.

* * *

><p>When Rin noticed Emiya and his evident shock at the sight of Saber she couldn't help but look at the back of his hands. She saw nothing but clean skin, of course, and she was therefore surprised by his strange reaction.<p>

"Emiya-kun," she called, "is there something wrong?"

The sound of her voice seemed to break the spell, as he blinked and turned to look at her. Only then did he seem to realize he had been staring and he blushed, a hand going for the back of his head in his trademark sheepish expression.

"Ah, ha, ha," he laughed slowly and awkwardly, "sorry. For a moment I thought your companion looked like someone I know. I didn't mean to stare."

"Geez, Emiya-kun," Rin smiled slightly, unable to hold back the need to make fun of him. "Don't you know that pretending to recognize her is a very bad way to pick up a girl? You're hopeless."

"W-what are you saying out of the blue?" he spluttered. "It's nothing like that."

Rin's new behavior was a far cry from the idol persona she had built for herself at school. Even though she still tried to keep it up, her previous interactions with Emiya had more or less revealed to the rest of the school that there was an actual person behind her aloof composure.

That didn't seem to make her peers and teachers look up to her any less; in fact her "fan-base" seemed to have increased since the "Fake Janitor" was able to interact with her like an equal. That was probably also the reason there had been an increase in the amount of love letters in her shoe locker in the past two months. People's hopes to _score_ with her had risen considerably. Not that there was any real chance of those hopes becoming reality.

"Rin," Saber joined the conversation, "would you mind introducing me to your friend?"

"My apologies, I've forgotten my manners. Emiya-kun, this is Dulac Ginevra-san, a friend of mine from England. Ginevra, this is Emiya Shirou, a schoolmate and an acquaintance of mine."

"Pleased to meet you, Dulac-san," Emiya bowed slightly as it was custom.

"Likewise, Emiya-san," Saber returned the bow.

"Well, it's almost time for homeroom," Rin said, hearing the first bell ring. "See you around, Emiya-kun."

"Wait a moment, Tohsaka," he called out for her, then continued in a hushed tone. "Listen, there's something I need to speak with you about. Privately, that is."

How convenient, Rin thought to herself. Though she had been waiting for such an opportunity, she would have preferred to postpone it as long as possible. She frowned inwardly. Was she becoming too self-indulgent? Best to crush such behaviors before they could become bad habits.

"What about?"

"It's about Yukiko's case. Something… came up."

Rin's mind immediately reeled. Yukiko's case was related to Guilford, and by extension to Magecraft. Had the teenage vigilante uncovered a connection that she hadn't investigated? If that was the case, it was equally important to acquire that intel and simultaneously prevent Emiya from proceeding down that road any further.

"I see," she replied slowly. "Well, I have some time free later today. Would you mind coming over to my house in the afternoon?"

"After school?" he nodded. "That's fine by me."

"Do you know where I live?" Rin inquired. She was surprised to see a small smirk playing across his lips. There was a spark of self-confidence bordering on arrogance in his eyes.

"Please, Tohsaka," he chuckled. "I might not act on my loose ends, but that doesn't mean I don't know them well."

Of course, she thought. She was the person who had uncovered his double identity, after all. It was only natural that he had gathered some information on her. It was the same thing she would have done if their roles were reserved. Strange, and sad how in fact he was also her loose end. One she would have to deal with sooner rather than later.

"You've grow a bit too cocky in the past few weeks, haven't you?" she almost smiled, though she actually felt quite bitter inside.

"Perhaps I have," he agreed reluctantly. "Anyway, I'll see you later Tohsaka, Dulac-san."

With a nod he turned and headed toward the main building, joining Issei as he did. Around them the number of people began to dwindle and not many had seen their interaction.

"Rin, who was that person?" Saber asked. Rin could tell that her voice was tense, despite her seemingly even tone. "I get the feeling he knows you better than you let on."

"He's a friend I owe a debt to," Rin replied. "A debt I had actually hoped to repay differently."

"The thing he was talking about, Yukiko's case: that's related to Caster's former Master, isn't it?"

"Yes," Rin nodded as both of them went for the entrance of the main building, "he helped me in the early stages of that mess when it seemed like it was only a mundane criminal case. He actually is…" she looked around. "It's not a good idea to discuss this here with all these people around. I'll fill you in later at home. Now we'd better get to the classroom before we're late."

Saber nodded her agreement and the both of them headed for the first class of the year.

* * *

><p>There was a sound of hushed awe among her classmates when Saber was introduced, though Kuzuki-sensei didn't seem all that interested in the new addition to his class. Then again, the stern but highly competent teacher had never actually shown interest in much of anything.<p>

As predicted, Saber's charisma combined with Rin's reputation as school idol kept just about everyone at a distance where normally the attractive female transfer student would be overwhelmed by the curiosity of her new classmates.

Saber blended in seamlessly as far as schoolwork was concerned. She was highly intelligent, as expected from the king of a country, and the information supplied from the Grail allowed her to follow the lessons without particular effort.

Through the day, her arrival was the only topic of conversation among the student body, as was her connection with Rin. Somehow, someone had already dug from the school archives that _Ginevra_ had the same home address as the school idol and already rumors about them were being made, from the simplest to the most ludicrous. Of course, neither was spoken in what the other students thought to be their hearing range.

It would be worth mentioning that Saber's hearing range was far greater than any normal human, and that a number of the suppositions about her and her Master's level of intimacy seemed to get her relatively embarrassed, though it never lasted more than the blink of an eye. Rin, for her part, was extremely embarrassed by the level of sheer immaturity of her schoolmates as well as their minds' propensity to get stuck in the proverbial gutter. The only notable exceptions among the male half were Issei, whom she hardly got along with and Emiya, whose mind would soon have to be wiped of all significant knowledge of her.

Indeed the path of a Magus was a lonely one.

* * *

><p>The King of Knights had many thoughts in her mind. The current state of the Grail was certainly one of these, but some were directed at the events of the previous conflict. No <em>actual<em> time had passed for her between the time she had disappeared and her summoning, and the timeless void she had been suspended in was more like a dream now that she had substance again.

As such, her musing about the end of that war wasn't surprising. To put it simply, by the late stages of the Fourth War she knew that she couldn't trust Kiritsugu in the slightest. If betraying her meant reaching his goals he would have done so without showing the slightest remorse, though whether he actually felt it or not was up to debate. Yet in spite of, or rather because of that she knew that Emiya Kiritsugu wouldn't have thrown away the Grail without a good reason. No, considering how willing he was to damn himself and others in order to obtain it, it had to be an extremely good reason.

No, with the knowledge of the Grail's malfunctions provided by her new Master, his betrayal acquired a new light. Could it be that, at the last possible moment, Kiritsugu had seen something in the Grail so wrong that he could no longer accept it in spite of all he had already sacrificed to get to it? To say that it was just an unsettling thought for her, who had put all of her hopes into the Grail, was the greatest understatement in history.

Still, it was no use to ponder it without a way to verify whatever assumptions she could come up with. Considering her Master was already aware of the Grail's malfunctions all she could do was wait and see how the situation would develop, even if the wait wreaked havoc on her nerves.

Besides, there were other things to deal with right now. This new Emiya who had suddenly appeared before her was another matter for concern. Fortunately her Master seemed to know something interesting about him that she didn't feel safe sharing where eavesdroppers could be lurking. Perhaps what she knew could shed further light on the present situation. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

All she had to do now was try to blend in with the youth of this era. A task easier said than done considering that they behaved more like children than the young men and women they would have been at that age in her era.

As a Magus, her Master was a notable exception to that, something she was extremely glad of. She didn't know how she would have put up with the shenanigans of an overgrown child. She was patient like a King should be, but just like a King she had no tolerance for stupidity, a constant plague in her era as much as it was in the present times. Perhaps humanity had not grown as much as she had thought.

Holding back a sigh, Saber resigned herself to make the best out of what she had.

**After school – Tohsaka household**

"I see," Saber nodded after listening to her Master's detailed retelling of her friend's kidnapping, as well as her interactions with Emiya in the rescue operation. "This young man certainly seems to be an interesting person. Still, isn't it odd that he bears such a name? To be called _'Archer'_ in this city…Master, are you sure it's a mere coincidence?"

"… Actually," Rin put down her cup of tea, "after rescuing Yukiko the first time as well as in the aftermath of Guilford's death, I gave this matter a lot of thought and did some research of my own. As far as I know, his secret persona's name is not one of his own choosing. He indeed introduced himself as a mere _kyuudoka (archer)_ when I met him for the first time, but in this country we have a tendency to name cool things with their English equivalent. As such, he was stuck with 'Archer' as his alter-ego's name."

"The is no chance that he's a Magus, then?" Saber further inquired, her interest piqued.

There were too many coincidences for her to brush it off: a boy with the last name of her previous Master, and carrying the name a Servant Class? Not to mention that he spent his nights doing heroic deeds. If his known modus operandi weren't so extremely unlike Kiritsugu's, she would have been certain of their relation. In fact, according to Rin's description the boy seemed to embody every aspect of the dream Kiritsugu failed or chose not to embrace. What were the odds?

"Even forgetting that I never once felt any active or residual Prana coming from him, I took some risks and inspected the outside of his house. I couldn't make an in-depth analysis unless I wanted to risk being found out, but I didn't detect any active Boundary Fields on his property. That alone would exclude him from being a Magus, unless he's so adept at making Bounded Fields that it surpasses my ability to detect them.

In addition," she continued, "his behavior is not that of a Magus at all. I know for a fact that he's far too invested in mundane activities to have any time for researching Magecraft, and his nighttime work is not something any Magus worth his salt would lose sleep over."

"Couldn't it all be a ruse, just to deceive you?" Saber pressed.

"If his behavior was limited to a short timeframe I would have considered it, but he was known around school as the _'Fake Janitor'_ long before we even remotely started interacting. The _'Archer'_ has been in action for well over a year now, as well."

"So you exclude him as a Magus entirely," Saber concluded.

"His psych profile doesn't fit that of one, that much is certain," Rin agreed, then amended with a frown. "If he was a Magus regardless of this he'd have to be a fairly incompetent and unmotivated one, but the Emiya Shirou I know is anything but."

"You seem to hold him in high regard," Saber commented clinically.

"As I said, I owe him one," Rin scoffed, turning her head to the side and crossing her arms over her chest. It gave Saber the impression that her Master wasn't usually very honest with herself. "He's a cut above the rest of my peers and I can fault neither his efforts nor his results in his fields of choosing, no matter my personal opinion of them."

"I understand," the Servant acquiesced. No need to press the subject further if it annoyed her Master. "So, what do you think he uncovered about Caster's late Master?"

"Hard to say. Guilford had to have hidden his tracks well, as any decent Magus would have done, but even before he actually revealed himself we knew that the entire event was orchestrated by a third party. Emiya might have stumbled over one or more of his loose ends, but I don't think he could have found out about Guilford himself, especially not so long after his death. Either way, we'll find out soon. He shouldn't be much longer now."

On cue with that statement the phone rang, surprising them both. Rin stood up and went to answer, coming back a few moments later.

"It was Emiya. He said that he can't make it and asked us to meet him at the Fuyuki memorial park later this evening. He said that it was better if we saw it with our own eyes."

"We?" Saber arched an eyebrow. "Did he ask for me to come as well?"

"Well, no," Rin shook her head. "I told him I'd bring you along and he didn't object. Then again he already told me that he trusted me with his secret, so perhaps he doesn't consider it too much of a stretch. Besides, even if you're there it doesn't mean you have to listen to what he wants to talk about."

"You certainly don't expect me to leave you alone with him, do you?" Saber asked, a hint of a frown on her lips. "If there's even the slightest chance that he's a Magus…"

"Of course not," Rin shook her head. "If it comes personal matters I would only ask you to keep a few steps back, just to pretend you aren't listening in on our conversation."

"Fair enough. If I recall correctly from the maps you showed me, the Fuyuki memorial park is in the middle of the city. We should probably go out now if we don't intend to be late."

"I suppose it would be a good idea to be there a little bit earlier than agreed, just in case," Rin agreed, taking her jacket. "Shall we go?"

Saber nodded and stood, dutifully following after her Master.

* * *

><p>It took them the better part of an hour to get to the park, walking leisurely a good part of the way and riding in a taxi for the rest. The sun had already set by then and the sky was illuminated by the artificial lights of the skyscrapers that circled all around the vast perimeter.<p>

Yet even if there was enough light to see clearly in front of them the place felt darker than it should have been, and the haunted looking trees didn't help to make the place feel or look any better.

Saber frowned at the sight. The skyline had changed over the years but the layout of the city was more or less the same. She knew that this place wasn't far from where she had fought the King of Heroes during the previous war. This was more or less the place where the Grail had acquired its physical form, where Kiritsugu had forced her to unleash Excalibur and destroy her wish mere meters from its fulfillment.

Yet something was very, very wrong. Unleashing Excalibur in the middle of the city would certainly have caused a great amount of damage and a number of innocent victims, and that knowledge weighed on her soul a great deal. However, it didn't justify the _radius_ of the damage and even less so the palpable feeling of dread that permeated the area like a twisted, dark curse.

What had happened to this place after she was gone?

They arrived a good twenty minutes earlier than intended, to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. Rin didn't seem to believe that Emiya could be up to no good, but taking small precautions like that were absolutely cost-free and generally a wise choice.

Still, even though they were early it appeared that the person they were there to meet had already arrived.

Emiya Shirou was sitting on a bench, leaning forward with his forearm resting on his knees, a can of soda held idly between his fingers. His gaze was distant, his features etched with worry and something else; something that was disturbingly, appropriately in tune with the place.

"Hello Tohsaka, Dulac-san. You're early," he greeted, turning to look at them.

"Well," Rin replied, purposely sounding annoyed, "seeing as you saw fit to move our meeting here we went for a stroll through the commercial area. I guess we got bored and got here sooner than expected. Is that a problem?"

"Not really," he shrugged, standing up and throwing the empty can into a nearby trash bin.

"So?" she demanded. "What did you want to talk about in this creepy place? What's there to see here, anyway?"

"Say Tohsaka, do you remember what I told you when we met for the second time in that alley? About why I do the things I do?"

"What has that to do with anything?" Rin asked, not really seeing the point of this line of conversation. Saber, on the other hand, was more than a little interested in knowing what he had to say. Her Master had not included his motivations when she told her about him. "However, yes, I remember. Because you were saved, isn't it?"

"More or less," he nodded. Then he started walking toward the centre of the park, motioning for them to follow. They did so, keeping a few steps behind him. "You know, this is where that huge fire happened ten years ago, where all those people died. I was here when it happened."

"That must have been ugly," Saber's Master stated the obvious with a tinge of compassion in her voice. For once her words probably mirrored what she actually felt.

"It's also the place where I was born, so to speak," he continued, his back still turned to them.

"… Born?"

"My earliest memory is walking among the flames," he clarified, "I have no recollection of anything before that. I don't know who I was or who my parents were or how old I actually am. Nothing at all."

"Emiya-kun…"

"The first thing I remember is walking among the flames," he repeated. "I watched mothers die trying to protect their children, only for them to die just moments later, consumed by the very same flames. I watched grown men die trying to shield their loved ones from collapsing buildings, when in the end they were all simply crushed together. Through it all I saw people turning to ash in the blink of an eye and charred bodies twisted like cheap matchsticks from the flames and the heat."

Anger seeped into his voice, his hands clenched into fists, shaking at his sides.

"Meaningless," he spat out. "They all died meaninglessly, like they didn't matter at all, as if they were small bugs caught unknowingly in something bigger than them."

He sighed, shoulders slumping forward before he straightened back up again. Rin didn't say anything. There wasn't much that could be said. Saber too was speechless, the anguish seeping from the boy's voice as palpable as the dark feeling that permeated the area.

"But somehow I survived. Somehow, I was saved. My adoptive father found me on the brink of death and dragged me out of the flames."

"I see… That's why you decided to help people, isn't it?"

"It's more complex than that," he turned to them but still looked elsewhere, as if he was still seeing the past horrors in front of his eyes. "It wasn't an immediate thing. It took me a while to put things together and figure out exactly what I had to do. Somehow I lived where others did not. There was nothing fair or right about it, no reason for me to have survived more than another. So if there wasn't a reason, then I had to find one for myself: a purpose to keep on living even though I knew that I didn't deserve it."

"Emiya-kun… you should have just been happy that you survived and enjoyed life even more."

He shook his head. "It's not that easy, Tohsaka. Some burns… they just don't heal. They accompany you; define you, for the rest of your life. I couldn't turn my back on that inferno so I could only give myself a stronger reason to look forward. I swore to myself that I wouldn't allow something like that to happen ever again."

He reached for his arm, pulling up his sleeve and revealing a small bracelet around his wrist. Bringing his fist in front of his face, he unfastened it.

"I swore that I wouldn't allow the innocent to be harmed again by something like the **Holy Grail War!**"

* * *

><p>Rin had already realized, halfway through Emiya's speech, where this conversation was going. Part of her didn't want to believe it, but part of her knew that it made more sense than she wanted to admit. He had been involved with the Grail War from the very beginning, almost as early as she had been.<p>

As he himself had said, in the wake of the Fourth War he was _born_. As she knew from witnessing it firsthand, in the beginning of the Fifth he had involved himself, either knowingly or unknowingly, with the plot of a sickly twisted Master and his Servant.

Therefore she wasn't surprised, or rather she shouldn't have been. The possibility had always been there and she had considered it under every possible perspective. Yet she had ruled him out every single time. Was it because it was actually reasonable to exclude him from the equation, or was it because she didn't want to admit the opposite?

Either way it didn't matter anymore now. As he removed the bracelet from his wrist and that sword shaped mark became visible on the back of his hand, Tohsaka Rin knew the truth beyond any chance of further denial.

Emiya Shirou was a Magus.

Emiya Shirou was a Master.

Emiya Shirou was an enemy.

A dark cloud erupted from behind his shoulder and the familiar form of Caster appeared from it.

"Rin, stand back!" At her side, Saber stepped forward with a burst of light, materializing her own battle raiment and putting herself between her Master and their enemies. Rin felt a Boundary Field going up around them.

So that was his plan. He said that he didn't want to involve innocents and the vast expanse of the Fuyuki Memorial Park, sealed with a Bounded Field, would insure that there wouldn't be bystanders that could be accidentally caught in the crossfire.

Rin appreciated that sentiment, but that was all she could appreciate. Even though her Magus mindset had kicked in and her own Circuits had flared to life, deep down she felt the cold stab of betrayal.

She honestly liked the person that Emiya Shirou was and the recent revelation that he was a Magus hadn't changed that, even if she hated that he had hidden it from her. All this time he had been stringing her along, biding his time. Considering his character there was probably a good, rational reason for it, but it didn't change the fact that he had lied and manipulated her to a degree.

"So it was you all this time," she said flatly, her emotions completely in check. "It's funny. Just earlier I was discussing with Saber the improbability of you being a Magus. I commend you, Emiya-kun. Even if I had you right under my nose I never truly suspected you."

"You weren't wrong, Tohsaka," he replied evenly. "I'm not a Magus. No," he held up his hand, "I know you can feel the Prana flowing from my contract and yes, I make use of Magecraft, but that's exactly what I am: a Magecraft user. Nothing more, nothing less."

Rin took his words into consideration. Her prodigious mind didn't need much to make the comparison with the true significance of being Magus, which was more than putting Magecraft into use. In fact, making use of a given spell was entirely irrelevant compared to knowing it, preserving it and discovering more spells. No, he was right and she had been correct in her estimation. The Emiya Shirou she knew could not be called a Magus by any stretch of the imagination.

Even the hypothesis that his observed behavior of over a year was just an elaborate ruse was too ridiculous, unless he was able to divine the future and foresee in advance their interactions, as well as the extremely unanticipated Fifth Grail War.

Somehow, knowing that she hadn't been mistaken eased her anger, but she was still pissed at him for hiding it from her and with herself for missing the truth.

"I can see how the definition of Magus would hardly fit you," she conceded, feeling somewhat mollified by that admission. "But I can hardly believe you didn't know about Guilford. Why did you storm his mansion and kill him if you didn't?"

He frowned and tilted his head to the side in honest confusion.

"He kidnapped and wanted to enslave you like he did to Yukiko," he replied in what could only be called a _'duh' _tone of voice. "Did I need any more reasons than that?"

Oh, Rin thought. _Oh!_

In her mind she had filed the two events separately. Being kidnapped by Guilford and Guilford being killed were two unrelated events in her mind that just happened to take place at the same time. She had been too preoccupied with Yukiko's well being, in the immediate aftermath of his death, to feel any gratitude for the person who had killed him and freed them both from Rule of Blood's power.

Thinking about it now Emiya had, well, saved her. … No, no, no. He hadn't saved her, he merely hastened the process of breaking the spell she and Yukiko were under. She had gotten away on her own after all… because he had provided her with the distraction she needed.

_Ugh_. Even if back then she thought she was able to slip away from that sick Magus' grasp and free both herself and Yukiko from his power there was no way to prove it, even to herself, and it didn't change the fact that his intervention had at the very least simplified things and increased her chances a great deal.

Being honest with herself, which she usually wasn't, considering that Guilford had a Heroic Spirit at his command and she hadn't at the time, her actual chances to get away and counter his Magecraft before he sent Caster after them were extremely slim. And that didn't take into consideration surviving and remaining free for the nearly two months it took her to finally summon Saber.

"I don't think so," she finally agreed, much to her dismay. The only thing that pissed her off more than having been saved was the annoying feeling of actually being pleased that he had cared enough to assault an unknown Magus' house. "I owe you one for that. Well, I suppose in return for that I can listen to what you have to say instead of having Saber cut you down like I probably should."

"You're assuming that it would be simple as that, ojou-san," Caster spoke coldly for the first time behind Shirou's shoulder. Her presence spiked at her words and it filled the air ominously. Yep, Rin considered, Emiya wasn't keeping Caster on a leash as short as Guilford had.

"Let us all calm down for a minute," Emiya cut in. "Tohsaka, despite what the situation looks like I have no intention of fighting you. I think you already figured that out."

"Of course I did," she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "This entire setup works completely against you from a tactical standpoint while you held all the cards until a moment ago. I assume you have a good reason for throwing away your advantages. What is it?"

"By now you already know that the Grail isn't working properly, but there's more to it than that."

"Oh? And how do you know about it, Emiya-kun?"

"This place," Emiya pointed at the ground where he was standing, "is where the Grail materialized the last time, ten years ago. This is where my father obtained it, refused it and commanded his Servant to destroy it."

"What?" Rin hissed and in front of her Saber held her invisible sword tighter. "You father was a Master too? And why would he refuse and destroy the Grail? Unless…" Rin frowned, "unless the Grail was already not working properly even back then?"

Emiya nodded.

"Nineteen years ago my father was hired by the Einzbern to act as a Master on their behalf in the Fourth War. I'm not going to elaborate much on his methods, which were pretty ruthless, but his wish was to create a world without conflict where people could live in peace."

"Hmpf. It seems like you owe your father more than just your life, doesn't it?"

"Much more," he agreed, "but that's not the point. Kiritsugu was as ruthless as he was methodic. He wouldn't have bet his dream on something like the Grail without investigating it in detail. For the nine years between his entrance into the Einzbern family and the start of War he investigated the creation and the workings of the Grail as thoroughly as he could, both within and without the Einzbern. He didn't come out with much, or at least not with anything that by itself made him think that the Grail could be anything but what was promised to be, but it all changed when he actually reached the Grail."

After a moment's silence, he said, "Say, Tohsaka, do you know how the Grail actually accomplishes a miracle beyond the scope of Gaia's?"

"By the simultaneous return the souls of the Servants killed in the war to the Akasha, opening a road to it," Rin answered warily.

"That's correct, but how many Servant are required to be defeated in order to fully activate it?"

"What do you mean? Obviously since there can only be a single Servant as a victor then they must be six."

"It's seven, Tohsaka," Emiya shook his head slowly. "The wish of the Servants was never meant to be fulfilled."

* * *

><p>Saber's teeth gritted. Beneath her gauntlets, her knuckles whitened under the strain of clenching her sword as tight as she could.<p>

Seven Servants needed to be sacrificed for the Grail to work properly, Emiya said. The wish of the Servant was never meant to be fulfilled.

His words echoed in her ears like a curse. She had been lied to. She had been deceived. The Grail was not able to make her wish come true because she wouldn't be in a condition to express it when the Grail had the power to make it real.

All of her efforts… all of her hopes…

"Are you saying that the system of the Command Seal is intended not only to uphold the Masters authority over their Servants, but to force the last one standing into committing suicide?" She all but growled out. Normally she would let her Master do the talking but this wasn't a matter she could or would delegate. She had accepted the subordinate role of a Servant in exchange for the possibility to make her wish become real. If that premise was a lie then her reason to be here, her reason to fight was gone as well.

"That's exactly so, but even then it's not all there is to it," Emiya replied. "Not that it isn't important, but this deception aside, the Grail isn't working as it should. I have no actual proof of it, but my father thought it had been tainted in the course of the Third War."

"Tainted?" Rin asked from the security of Saber's back. "How do you even begin to taint a ritual like the Grail War?"

"When he investigated the Grail before and after his conflict," Emiya answered, "the only relevant thing he managed to uncover from the Einzbern's archives, as well as the few still living participants of the third war or their descendents, is that the Einzbern had manipulated the system to summon a Class not counted among the original seven. I don't know the actual identity of that Heroic Spirit, but the Class that replaced Berserker was called Avenger."

"Avenger," Rin mulled the word for a moment. "Even assuming that what you say is true and knowing for a fact that the Einzberns like to meddle with the Grail to their own advantage, why do you think that this mysterious Servant has tainted the Holy Grail's System?"

The answer came, surprisingly, from Caster.

"For one thing, after the Third War ended the Grail became able to summon Anti-Heroes, where it was originally intended to exclusively summon so called _'proper'_ Heroes. If the Grail was working as intended, _I_ would not be here."

"So you're an Anti-Hero, uh?" Rin asked, her voice moderately pleased. "Good to know. What else?"

The conversation returned to Emiya. "When Kiritsugu reached the Grail it offered to fulfill his wish for global peace by killing everyone but him, his wife and his daughter. He said it called itself Angra Mainyu and when he obviously rejected its offer, it cursed him, destroying almost all of his Circuits. The same curse finally took his life almost five years ago."

"Angra… Mainyu?" Rin's eyebrows furrowed. "The devil from the Zoroastrian religion?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure If it was Avenger's actual identity or if there was something about it that called this entity to invade the Grail, but ultimately this curse started to overflow from the Grail and Kiritsugu used two of his Command Seals to force his Servant to destroy the Grail. The great conflagration resulted from that and while that partial manifestation of the Grail was destroyed by an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm its curse still ligers heavily in this place. Look around. It's still so thick that even normal people give a wide berth to this place, and the vegetation can't grow properly no matter how much care is put into it. Whatever the actual cause for this taint, it's certainly not something I made up and I have no reason to believe it has yet been cleansed either."

"… I agree with you that the current situation is abnormal," Rin agreed after a moment of thought. "But your so called proofs are circumstantial at best."

"You don't believe me," Emiya concluded. There was more than just sadness in his voice.

"No, I actually think you're being honest, but your information is sketchy and from a third hand source. It's not exactly something to build a course of action on. Still, I believe you already have a plan or you wouldn't have bothered revealing yourself just yet. What did you have in mind?"

"Going with the assumption that currently the tainted Grail can only realize wishes through destruction, we intend to stall the war as much as possible."

"Stall? How would that serve any purpose?"

"The Grail has more power the more souls are returned to it," Caster supplied, stepping in front of her Master. "I am of the opinion that it can be cleansed or at the very least isolated properly."

"Do you think you can do it?" Rin questioned the Heroic Spirit.

"I'm a Magus from the Age of Gods, little girl," Caster sneered slightly. "While even I have to admit that this Grail is considerably complex and finely made for a product of this dull era it's absolutely not something above my ability to comprehend. The only reason I haven't yet grasped all of its secrets is because its creators foresaw the possibility of summoning a Magus superior to them and took appropriate countermeasure to keep me out. Without having actual access to its depths under Ryuudo Mountain, I can only examine the active parts of the System remotely."

"Let me guess," Rin stopped her, "the tainted part of the Grail, the one that receives the soul of the Servants and sends them back to the Root is not going to activate until all seven are summoned. Is that about right?"

"Indeed," Caster replied, sounding a bit surprised at Rin's insight. "The Lesser Grail that holds the soul of the defeated Servants is not here in Fuyuki yet, and is unlikely to arrive until the war starts properly. Without it, the Greater Grail will not activate in full and is therefore beyond my ability to interact with."

"Che!" Rin scoffed. "For a Magus from the Age of the Gods, not being able to bypass a modern Boundary Field is not a credit your ability."

"For your information, _little girl_," Caster stressed that particular appellative, "it's well within my power to bring down the protection around the Grail. If I were willing to turn this entire region into a smoldering crater to prove myself to you, that is."

This time Rin knew better than to run her mouth needlessly.

"Let us all cool down a little bit, shall we?" Emiya, apparently the peacekeeper of the lot intervened again. "Tohsaka and … Saber, right?" the King of Knights nodded, if barely, in response. "I understand that you consider my arguments lacking, and I suppose you're going to look into it yourself from now on."

"Now that I don't have to watch my back all the time, yes," Rin replied with narrowed eyes, "that's what I'm going to do."

"Good. I too would prefer if you looked into this matter on your own. There might be things my father was unable to find or even overlooked entirely. It's better if an unrelated third party takes a look into it independently."

"I'm surprised, Emiya-kun," Rin smirked like she usually did when she was about to make a dig at someone's character. "I thought that someone as painfully honest and straightforward as you would have preferred to be trusted right off the bat."

"What are you talking about, Tohsaka?" Emiya's eyebrows furrowed. "Trusting me and trusting my sources are two different things entirely. Besides, I'm sure that if you didn't trust me at all you wouldn't have given me the time of day in these circumstances. The Grail War is a very nasty business and if you didn't check things through I would have been seriously concerned about asking your cooperation."

"Huh, you're not as dumb as I had thought you were, Emiya-kun," Rin replied, slightly taken aback.

"Um… Thanks?"

"Then I propose an pact of non-aggression for the time being," Rin continued, not dignifying him with a response to his doubtful sounding gratitude. "Is that what you had in mind?"

"Essentially," he nodded, obviously relieved. Acknowledging the agreement, Saber eased her stance, letting her arms hang at her side, but still keeping her eyes set on the duo. "I have a previous engagement I have to attend to, so I'll be leaving Fuyuki for a couple of days at least."

"Wait, how are you going to maintain Caster outside of the Grail's range? You can't be telling me you have the Prana reserves to support a Servant outside of Fuyuki."

"I'm not," he told her flatly. "Caster isn't coming with me. She'll be staying here in Fuyuki."

Rin's eyebrow twitched.

"The problem is the same. The Servant needs both the power from the Grail and a Master's to remain in this world."

"Please, ojou-san," Caster replied, using a more polite appellative but still in a mocking tone. "I'm more than capable of providing the means to sustain myself, without doing harm to anyone if that was what worried you."

Rin nodded. "Nevermind, then. That being said, Emiya-kun, even if I might know the answers there are some questions I have to ask."

"Go ahead," the redhead shrugged.

"Why did you wait until now to reveal yourself to me? I have been without a Servant for weeks, so why wait for me to summon one to make your move?"

"What would have been your answer if I came up to you and asked for your cooperation with a Servant at my side while you didn't have the protection of one as well? Regardless of what your true intentions might have been at the time, _could_ you have refused?"

"Not likely," Rin admitted, sounding satisfied. She had probably already arrived at that conclusion during the previous conversation.

"There you have it," he spread his arms. "It's not an actual alliance if one of the parties involved has no choice in the matter. Speaking of long term cooperation, it's better if everyone involved is involved of their own free will and not any form of coercion."

"How nice of you," she mocked, in a surprisingly good-natured manner as far as Saber could tell. "Next question. What would you have done had I refused your request this evening?"

"It depends. In the unlikely eventuality that you decided to fight I chose this area to avoid innocent casualties. Not that I think you would have made that choice with the circumstances being what they are, but I preferred to play it safe with the lives of other people. Further, had you decided to just walk away I would have let you do so. Although, seeing as I intend to stall the war as much as possible while Caster works on the Grail, we would have had to interfere with all of your coming battles, forcing you and your opponents to either retreat altogether or coming to support the losing party until a stalemate was reached," Emiya said with an even tone.

"Well, even if it's annoying to hear you say that so bluntly, in light of your stance in this War I can see your point. Last but not least," Rin eyes turned even more serious than they already were. "Emiya-kun, do you really trust that woman? She has already betrayed her first Master. What's to stop her from doing the same with you the moment it becomes beneficial for her?"

Saber expected Caster to protest Rin's accusation, if only for appearances' sake, but the purple clad woman didn't utter a word, simply turning to look at her second Master from behind the hood that concealed her features. There was a sense of trepidation coming from her body language that hardly befitted a Heroic Spirit, or even just the impression of aloof confidence she had exuded until that moment.

"In reverse order, Tohsaka," Emiya started answering slowly, "there's nothing preventing her from betraying me. The Command Seals don't insure loyalty at all, just short term compliance. As for trusting her," he turned to look at the Servant at his side. "Yeah, I trust her absolutely."

Now, Saber didn't really know Caster all that well. The impression she had gotten from her coincided with that of her Master's from their previous encounter. She was undoubtedly a woman used to hiding her intentions, as her overall appearance and demeanor suggested. Saber had seen just a few expressions on what was visible of the other Servant's face, and they were either the half-smirks or half-frowns of a detached and generally uncaring person.

Yet in spite of that the small, definitely feminine smile caused by her current Master's declaration could only be called… _radiant_.

Yes, Saber knew instinctually that she couldn't trust Caster in the slightest, but her instincts also told her that Emiya Shirou had no reason to fear the same. At her side, Rin's huff told Saber that her Master had reached a similar conclusion and was not all that pleased with it.

* * *

><p>Annoying.<p>

Annoying.

Annoying.

Everything about this situation was annoying to the Tohsaka heir. Starting a month earlier, annoyance had been a constant companion for the young woman.

She was annoyed with the Grail: while part of her inheritance, it was also the cause of her being orphaned. She was annoyed with herself, for having been thrown around like a ragdoll by the unexpected events surrounding her. She was annoyed with Emiya, for his deep albeit unintentional involvement with the Grail.

But right now the vast majority of her annoyance was with Caster. That woman's existence had been the cause of many sleepless nights in the past eight weeks. Seeing her smile so beatifically at Emiya's declaration of trust made Rin want to smack her face more than ever.

None of this showed outwardly, of course, save for a barely contained huff. Naturally, that too annoyed her.

"Well then, I guess there isn't much else I can say if that's how you feel. For the time being I will investigate your claims, discreetly, of course. There's a chance that such irregularities might have been overlooked purposely, especially by the Einzbern."

"Agreed," Shirou nodded. "Most Magi wouldn't care much about how many people died so long as they could reach Akasha. If the true purpose of the Grail got out to the Clock Tower, Fuyuki might get invaded by an army of Magi."

Further annoyance. "If you felt like that, why did you think it was a good idea to seek an alliance with me? You are aware that I'm the Second Owner of Fuyuki instated by the Mage Association, aren't you? If you don't trust Magi, why seek an alliance with the highest ranking officer in the area?"

"Ah. I think you've got things a bit mixed up Tohsaka," he actually had the gall to chuckle.

"What do you mean by that?" Rin demanded to know with narrowed eyes.

"I didn't ask the cooperation of the Magus that happens to be Tohsaka Rin, but rather that of Tohsaka Rin that happens to be a Magus," Emiya pointed out a bit amusedly.

"I fail to see the difference," Rin declared.

"Strange. I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer but it's pretty obvious to me. To put it simply, Tohsaka, the former wouldn't have lost a minute of her time searching for a missing girl who was ignorant of Magecraft while the latter couldn't find any rest until she knew that same girl was safe and sound." Emiya's smile was genuine as he said, "If I really have to spell it for you, I asked your help because I know for a fact that you're a good person, Tohsaka."

"…" Rin didn't say anything in response to that. Emiya was so annoying that it made her cheeks flush red with anger. Yes, of course anger. What else could it have been beside that?

"By the way," he continued, disregarding her lack of words, "this is yours, right?"

He pulled out a small leather satchel from inside his jacket and threw it at her in a high arc. She caught it effortlessly and emptied the contents onto her hands. It only served to increase her annoyance.

"All this time," she almost shrieked, "you've been holding my gems? Do you have any idea how hard of a time I've been having without these?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he clapped his hands and bowed apologetically. "I couldn't have returned them earlier without blowing my cover."

"What are you saying?" Rin continued, voice still slightly high-pitched. "You could have returned them anonymously or something like that."

"… I honestly didn't think of that," he confessed, scratching his head sheepishly. "Sometimes the most simple answer eludes us, right?" It was only for appearance's sake that Rin refrained from palming her face, settling for calming herself instead and sighing in resignation.

"I can't believe how dumb you can be at times, Emiya-kun. At least you made the right decision in contacting me. It would have been a disaster if you went about this on your own."

"I'm not that bad," he sweatdropped.

"You kind of are at times, Master," the mostly silent Caster agreed.

"Not you too, Caster. I get no respect at all," he practically moaned into his hand.

It surprised Rin how lighthearted the relationship between the witch in purple and the hero-wannabe was. Caster hadn't given her the impression that she was a very open individual.

"Well, since you are so hopeless that even your Servant is worried about you, I guess that I can spare a bit of information too."

"What is it?" he asked, returning to his completely serious self.

"I know for a fact that at least another Magus has tried to perform the summoning ritual. I don't know who they were, but I know for a fact that it either didn't work or they were interrupted before they could complete it successfully."

"Is this related to Saber's inability to shift into her astral form?" Caster asked, though it felt like a rhetorical question.

"It's precisely like that," Rin agreed. "I see you catch on quickly."

"I already made a few hypotheses along the lines of a poorly made ritual when my Master informed me of a Servant pretending to be a normal human, instead of hiding on the spiritual plane," the Servant of the Spell elaborated with a shrug.

"So neither of you had any part in it?" Rin further inquired.

"Admittedly I could summon a Servant myself," Caster confessed, "if I got my hands on an unutilized set of Command Seals. That would mean tracking and killing a Servantless Master, but I neither had the time nor the resources to do so."

"Time?" Rin blinked. "It's been almost two months since Guilford died. What have you been doing in the meantime?"

"Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that," Caster said mysteriously, "Neither my Master nor I have been exactly idle in the past few weeks."

"Caster, please don't give her any more reasons to worry," the redhead sighed. "Don't worry, Tohsaka. Despite how she made it sound we haven't been doing anything out of place. I'll bring you up to speed as soon as I come back from my trip."

"I waited eight weeks, I suppose I can wait a couple of days more," Rin nodded.

"Thank you. In the meantime, Caster?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Give Tohsaka access to my father's notes. There might be something in there she could use. Also, give her the tomes I took from Guilford's mansion."

"Wait, what tomes?" Rin cut in.

"Ah. I sort of ransacked Guilford's Workshop on my way out of there. I've already read all of them and most of what's in there is not compatible with my brand of Magecraft except for a few books on runes. You can probably make better use of the rest than I ever could."

"Seriously?" Rin had to whisper in disbelief.

"Consider it compensation for leaving you hanging for all of this time," Emiya continued, further proving that the title of Magus didn't suit him at all. Giving away knowledge so freely, no matter how useless, was almost heresy for any Magus worth the name.

"Are you sure, Master?" Caster asked. "Those books are worth more than just a little money."

"It's fine," Shirou said, brushing her concern aside. "I'm not short on cash and I'd rather make the best out of all our resources in preparation for the war."

"I'm not sure if working with you is going to be a blessing or a curse, Emiya-kun," Rin said with a shake of her head. "Well, at least I get something out of this trouble. Was there anything else you needed to discuss?"

"Nothing comes to mind right now. When I come back we can discuss in detail what happened at Guilford's mansion, just in case I missed something relevant."

"Then I suggest we call it a night. Saber and I have a lot to work on. I'd better get back to my own father's notes about the Grail War as well. There might be something in there that has a different meaning in light of what transpired here."

"Good luck," Emiya wished. "If you need anything while I'm out of Fuyuki don't hesitate to contact Caster at my place."

"You are far too available for your own good, Emiya," Rin grumbled. "Someday that is going to come back to bite you in the back."

"Didn't you tell me something like that once already?" Emiya asked rhetorically with his usual annoying smile.

"Yes, I did. I can see you made no use whatsoever of my advice."

He shrugged. "Like I told you back then, I'll take my chances. Goodnight Tohsaka, Saber." He nodded to the both of them and then walked away, disappearing into the darkness that shrouded the park.

"Master," Saber finally spoke, turning to look at her with a piercing gaze. "Did you know anything about this?"

"The Seven Servant requirement? No, I didn't, but I have no way of proving it to you."

"… In my life as a King I have learned how to discern when I'm being lied to," the Servant of the Sword declared, staring at Rin. "You most certainly aren't."

It took more than a bit of effort not to sigh in relief. Certainly Saber was bound by the Command Seals, but like Emiya had said, the prodigious binding served to only ensure short term compliance and didn't bring any loyalty. Ultimately, the relationship between Master and Servant had to be based on mutual goals and mutual respect. Otherwise the fate of Vincent Guilford awaited any Master so foolish as to step upon a Heroic Spirit's pride.

"Thank you, Saber. What do you make of Emiya and Caster?"

"I could not detect any lie in the things he said. That doesn't make his knowledge correct, as you said, but I don't believe he's trying to mislead us. Caster, on the other hand… it's better not to trust that woman much, if possible."

"So your impression is the same as mine. That's something, at least." Rin could not help but let out a small sigh. "Saber, I'm sorry about this but for the time being I have to ask you to trust me. I'm going to get to the bottom of this situation. I know this has nothing to do with the terms of your summoning, but can you please support me until this mess has been taken care of?"

"I have indeed accepted this contract in exchange for the Grail, Rin, but now that I'm here, as a knight I cannot disregard a threat to the lives of innocent people. If this Grail can't in fact be used without causing harm, I'm honor bound to see it destroyed. "

"Thank you. I appreciate it and I promise: if there's a single chance for you to have your wish fulfilled properly, I will support you to the best of my ability."

"In return, Rin, I will do the same," the Servant smiled. "Is this a satisfactory amendment to our initial agreement?"

"I say it works just fine" the Magus replied with a smile of her own. "Let us go back now. I'm afraid there's a lot of work ahead of us."

"Of that I have no doubt," Saber agreed, following after her Master.

* * *

><p>On their way out of the park, Saber stopped and turned for a moment to look in the direction that Emiya had disappeared minutes earlier. Something about him had struck her. Something familiar she couldn't quite put her finger on.<p>

Perhaps it was his goal, his ideals or perhaps his moral compass that, while not precisely that of a knight, wasn't very far from it. Perhaps in such a suboptimal situation, this alliance could prove to be a blessing. In a conflict like the Grail War, where everyone was out for everyone else's blood, having a reliable ally was perhaps the best advantage one could hope to find.

It was perhaps too soon to consider the other duo of Master and Servant as trustworthy, but Saber had the feeling that the son of Kiritsugu had taken the best parts of the deceased man that used to be her Master.

"Is something the matter, Saber?" Rin asked, having noticed her sudden stop.

"No, just thinking. That young man is… intriguing."

"… There's certainly more to him than meets the eye. Have you perhaps found a kindred spirit in him, Saber?" her Master asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's far too soon to decide that," she replied evenly, not rising to her Master's bait. "The true measure of any person is determined in times of hardship, not during peace."

"I can't fault that reasoning," her Master agreed. "Besides, whether we like it or not, both his and our characters are going to be tested."

Of that there was little doubt, Saber privately agreed. The challenge ahead of her appeared to be far more daunting than what she had estimated and the prize for it was most likely already lost.

A bitter feeling rose up into her chest. How long until she could keep her promise? How long until she could make up for her mistakes?

She crushed those thoughts as well as her uncertainty with the firm resolve of a King. There was no use in losing herself in negative musings. She would seek the best possible outcome from this situation, and if this Grail couldn't fulfill her wish she would certainly move toward the next, as her contract with Alaya would ensure.

That, of course, after smashing to pieces the artifact that dared to deceive her. One way or another she would put an end to the tragedies caused by the Grail of Fuyuki.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Man, this sure was a though chapter to write. Trying to stay true to Rin's and Saber's characters in a new set of circumstances was very difficult, especially for Rin. Like I said in the forum she's a triple layered character who isn't honest even with herself, making writing in her POV a daunting task.<p>

Well, this is it for now.

As usual my thanks go to RavingScholar for a job well done and also to twinkieman92 for helping out several times.

If you enjoyed this chapter is also thanks to them.

That's it for now. See ya.


	25. Isn't it sad?

**Chapter 24 – Isn't it sad?  
><strong>(Published: 07.26.13 - Beta: RavingScholar)

* * *

><p>Medea held back a sigh as she watched Shirou prepare his luggage. He would only be gone for a couple of days, three at the most, but she was already feeling apprehensive about it.<p>

Sure, in all likelihood it would be an uneventful business trip, but knowing her Master's penchant for both looking for and stumbling into troubles of all sorts she couldn't help but be worried. Not to mention that she was already missing him even though he hadn't even left yet.

"Done," Shirou declared, slamming his suitcase closed. "I'm ready to go. Hey, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "I just have a bad feeling about this."

"Ah, come on, you're worrying over nothing," he laughed. "It's just a simple business trip with a bonus visit to a museum with a little night patrolling on the side. None of them are the most dangerous thing I've ever done. I'm going to be perfectly safe."

"Somehow I doubt it. You are far too inclined to go looking for trouble for your own good. Fortunately you have me to look out for you." She folded her arms and tilted her head up slightly. "You had better be grateful."

"I'm grateful, I'm grateful," the teenager clapped his hands together and bowed as if in front of a shrine.

"Hmm," the Heroic Spirit acquiesced with a haughty sideways glance. "Well, at least you seem to appreciate my efforts. You wouldn't have deserved my latest work if you didn't."

"Latest work?"

"Didn't I tell you that I was working on something when you decided to leave for Misaki?" Medea asked rhetorically. "I finished it just last night."

"Yeah, I remember. What is it, though?" he asked curiously. "You never told me."

"Well, I wanted it to be a surprise. Come with me and I'll show you. I promise you'll like it."

Shirou eagerly followed her to the underground Workshop. Medea had made certain not to work on this particular Mystic Code in his presence, hiding it every time he was around. It wouldn't have been as impressive if he saw it just halfway done.

The witch led him into a corner of their shared Workshop, the part where he was forbidden to tread on the pain of, well, pain and where she kept her unfinished projects. There, inside a glass case covered by a thick black cloth was her latest accomplishment.

"Well, this is it," she declared grabbing a hold of the cloth. "This is going to knock you out."

"As if," Shirou scoffed playfully. "Come on, just show me."

"Brace yourself," she replied with a smile of anticipation to his reaction. She gave a pull and the cloth fell, revealing the Mystic Code that had taken her many nights to complete.

Medea wasn't disappointed by Shirou's reaction. As the hidden treasure was revealed and its cover fell, so did Shirou's jaw. The witch had to hold back an undignified giggle at his dumbstruck expression. After a full minute, during which he didn't say anything or even move beside the minimum required breathing, Medea decided to snap him out of his funk by walking toward him and shutting his jaw closed with one finger, forcing him to look at her.

"I take it that you like it," she said coyly.

"Ah? Uh? Buh?!" Shirou spluttered unintelligently, one finger raised to point frantically at the Mystic Code.

"Yes, yes. I made it specifically for you," Medea reassured him patiently. "Now pick up your jaw and let me show you how it works."

* * *

><p>The sun was setting over the city of Misaki. School activities had long since ended and the last students were making their way back home. At a glance there was nothing peculiar about any of them, but beneath the appearance at least one was much more than met the eyes.<p>

Walking among the common people, not unlike a wolf hiding amongst sheep, the bespectacled girl with dark blue hair and equally blue eyes moved at a calm pace with her school bag hanging loosely at her side.

On her way she exchanged pleasantries with the few acquaintances she had, people who didn't know her and people who would soon forget her. Her presence in their lives was nothing more than a passing shadow, never meant to leave a trace.

She was used to such things. Her existence was fundamentally different from anyone and it had but a single purpose. Things like social interactions were merely a procedure that she needed to blend in better and complete her assignment, nothing more.

That didn't mean she didn't care about them. Those small everyday actions, no matter how fake, were something she enjoyed in secret, even from herself. Tiny little windows for her to stare at the things she had lost, like an inmate looking at the sky past the bars of her prison, pretending to be free like the people she saw out there.

Such thoughts didn't last. They never did. Each and every time, she quickly recalled why such things were not meant for her anymore. They had been forfeited when her life was changed against her will.

With the ease of years of practice she squashed the bitterness that rose to her throat and threatened to spill from her eyes.

The sun disappeared completely behind the horizon, casting darkness upon the city while she continued her walk to her _'home'_. It was a small apartment with a single bedroom and the bare minimum necessities. Finely decorated as it was, it was nothing more than more pieces of the fake persona that others called Ciel.

She put her bag into a corner and slowly removed her school uniform, folding it neatly on a chair. Stripped down to her underwear, she walked to the closed and flung it open. The clothes kept in there, along with the tools of her trade, were the only items she had been familiar with for the previous few years.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror to the side of the room and she couldn't help but stare at her own reflection.

Her porcelain white skin, tinged blue by the moonlight that seeped through the windows and the curtains, was that of a beautiful young woman in her teens. Just another lie.

Her body didn't age, didn't die, frozen in time until the monster that cursed and defiled her very soul was finally destroyed for good. That was her purpose, her sole reason to exist: to put an end to Michael Roa Valdamjong…and herself.

For that reason she'd lie to everyone if she had to, even to herself and to _him_.

_Him_. She didn't want to think his name. She didn't want to think about him at all, but she couldn't avoid it. He was her target, her prime suspect but at the same time he was the one person who caused her heart to flutter and her resolve to waver. She both wanted to get close to him and run as far away as possible.

If he truly were Roa then she would have to kill him in an act of both vengeance and mercy. If he weren't, then it would only be slightly better. She was a monster not unlike the one she chased. Her soul was stained by crimes not of her choosing but that still weighed on her every day of her life. Her true self could only be disgusting and unappealing in the eyes of a normal person. She would do better to convince herself that such emotions were just a way to pretend better, to blend in better.

Yes, she could convince herself of just about anything. Though she loathed it, loathed him, Roa's knowledge of Magecraft taught her how to deny the self like only a Magus could.

She didn't care for him, she told herself. She didn't care for him, she knew without a doubt.

_Lies, lies, lies! _another part of her mind screamed back, shattering her carefully crafted convictions.

Outwardly she only sighed, though inwardly she winced. This was only going to make things harder on everyone, but apparently she wasn't able to lie that well. Resigned, she shook her head and returned to the closet intending to finish what she had started.

And then the mobile phone rang.

The girl's eyes immediately went to the communication device. She hadn't shared that number with anyone yet. It wasn't even known to the phone companies, to be honest. The only group of people who had access to it was the same who had provided it to her: the Burial Agency.

She picked it up, hit the answer button and put it to her ear.

"Yumi speaking," she told flatly and then simply listened to what her superiors had to say. Her eyes narrowed through the conversation. "Impossible," she told them without hesitation. "I can't split myself between two jobs and hope to make anything worthwhile out of either. I will not have Roa slip through my fingers. Send another team."

The reply she received wasn't at all pleased. Her own answer was to end the conversation and throw the device on the bed. If they weren't happy with her decision, then it wasn't her problem.

She had recently developed some doubts, that was true, but her priorities hadn't changed in the slightest. They knew it beforehand, so they would do better to deal with this other issue with other assets. It's not like they lacked the funds nor the manpower anyway. The only thing close to a spiritual possession she was interested in was Roa's. Everything else was of little to no concern.

Somebody else would take care of it.

* * *

><p>The evening train for Misaki was almost entirely devoid of people, at least in Shirou's compartment. That was perfectly fine for the teenage Magus, who had a lot of thoughts on his mind and didn't mind being left alone with them.<p>

Most of his attention was directed toward his right wrist, where yet another bracelet was securely fastened. Whereas the suppressor for his Command Seal appeared to be a simple leather bracelet, the new one on his right arm was an elegant if simple silver band, finely etched with a complex runic array visible in its dormant state only under the right light.

Shirou had to resist the urge to rub the Mystic Code against his face, gushing like a fetishist presented with a token of his obsession. He had to restrain himself from shouting out in excitement when Medea showed him how it worked, and it took a great amount of effort to sit through the entire explanation of the Mystic Code's features when he just wanted to try it out for hours.

Fortunately or unfortunately he had to take his train to Misaki before he could give the Mystic Code anything but a basic trial run, but what little he had seen of it made him absolutely enthusiastic. His gratitude for the Heroic Spirit who had crafted it had been so intense that it had caused her to blush. She still looked fairly embarrassed by his reaction when she reminded him of the time and sent him out on his way with a last recommendation to be as careful as possible and to call her if any trouble arose.

Not that Shirou expected that such a situation would present itself. The string of murders that had spread across Misaki was unusual, yes, but it didn't sound like the work of an actual vampire. Dead Apostles made a point to keep their workings in the shadows as much as possible in order to avoid notice by one of the many organizations that hunted the inhuman. The Clock Tower with its Enforcers and the Catholic Church with its Executors were the most powerful of such organizations across the globe, but they were hardly the only ones.

Thus it was unlikely that a Dead Apostle was actually behind this situation, unless some extenuating circumstances were involved that he couldn't imagine. What worried him more was running into the members of the aforementioned organizations, who were bound by duty to investigate every potential vampire case. Though there generally was a silent agreement of non-belligerence between those groups, none of them liked the other very much and tensions were always high whenever one or more members of different organizations met.

For a freelancer like him it was all the worse, as no one would so much as hesitate to kill him if they considered it worthwhile or necessary, especially since they wouldn't have to suffer from the reprisal from any of the other groups.

Yeah, in spite of what some other people thought about him, Emiya Shirou looked out for his own well-being. Self-sacrificing and suicidal are two different things after all, though he would be willing to admit that it was often a thin line to tread.

As he ran in his mind many different scenarios should he actually come across such people, the train pulled into Misaki. Shirou quickly retrieved his luggage and climbed down, immediately recoiling at the intense, raw Mana that saturated the atmosphere of the city.

Trying his best to ignore the suffocating feeling he took a taxi to the hotel where he had booked a room; a western style building in the middle of the city recommended by the Tohnos when he expressed his intention to visit the city for a few days. He checked in at the reception and he was showed to his room on the third floor.

The building seemed to be packed with people, hanging out in the reception area and at the annexed bar. On his way to the hotel he had also noticed very few people walking around, a reflection of the state of fear that had settled over the city.

After he emptied his suitcase and put his clothes into the closet, Shirou took a quick shower and killed some time waiting for the late hours of the evening, when even less people would be found on the streets.

"Emiya-san," the receptionist protested upon retrieving the key to Shirou's room, "I don't know if you're informed, but there's a serial killer on the loose. The authorities have highly discouraged going outside after dusk until the culprit is arrested. Especially alone."

"Thank you, but don't worry," Shirou waved off the receptionist's worries, "I can defend myself very well. I'll be perfectly safe."

"As you wish, Emiya-san," the receptionist nodded. He had done his job by warning him, but he had no duty nor right to insist, though he evidently disapproved of Shirou's choice. After all who in their right mind would go out alone at times like these?

Shirou didn't say it, of course, but if the murderer thought he would make for good prey, then it was perfectly fine with him. In fact it would be so much better if they focused on him instead of someone else, as it made other people safe and would serve to accelerate the killer's capture.

Without looking back he walked out.

* * *

><p>The spring breeze brushed pleasantly against Ciel's skin as she hopped from roof to roof silently and unseen. The nightlife of Misaki was for all intents and purposes non-existent. The recent murder-spree had more or less scared everyone into their home after sunset, much to many business owners' dismay.<p>

However there were always exceptions. People who worked late returning home, students who had been held at school past club hours and generally people who didn't think that being targeted by the killer could happen to them walked down the streets with different levels of cautions.

Ciel kept an eye on them from above. The Dead Apostle, like any of his kind, would hide in the shadows and let his thralls drain the blood he needed to sustain himself. The only way to find him was to kill each and every Ghoul he had created, forcing him to come out from his hole to feed and to create more undead. It wasn't an easy task for a single person, considering that the number of people who disappeared without a trace was much higher than those who had been labeled as victims of the vampire. Every night, dozens of people were returned to their final rest at her hands, turning to dust and disappearing into the night. Their loved ones would never truly know what happened to them and it was for the best. Letting them believe that those who had been turned into mindless husks were maybe still alive and well somewhere was so much more preferable.

She followed the blissfully ignorant wanderers, both for their protections and to use them as bait to draw out the thralls of the vampire.

Her Black Keys hissed silently many times that night, and no less than twenty people avoided being drained of their blood before they even noticed the presence of the Ghouls. Sadly, at least five more had been drained before she had managed to stumble upon them.

Though it pained her, her failures didn't discourage her in the slightest and she moved to another location while mouthing a silent prayer for the fallen. After a good hour of hunting, less and less people could be found on the streets. Nonetheless she continued patrolling, seeking more Ghouls to exterminate and more people to protect.

It was almost midnight when she stumbled upon a person that piqued her interest. By that hour the only people who could be still found on the streets where a few drunkards and the occasional police patrol. This person however didn't seem to belong to either of these groups.

He was a redheaded boy that could be no older than seventeen, dressed in casual clothing. He was walking slowly and seemingly without a specific destination. He might have been just taking a late night stroll, if not for the fact that it was quite stupid with a killer on the loose, and he looked like he was searching for something.

He stopped many times at random locations, looking around as if searching for something without finding it. He never stared at the ground, so he wasn't searching for some missing belonging.

Ciel decided to follow him. She might have suspected him of being the Dead Apostle, if not for the fact that she was almost certain about the current identity of Roa. It was still worth keeping an eye on him, if only just for his safety.

Silently she stalked him from the roofs. People usually don't look above unless they needed to, but Ciel kept herself strictly behind him. As time went by his behavior became even more odd. He stopped often, peering into dark alleys between buildings: a very, very dangerous activity lately.

Going so close to such dangerous places, he might have come across a Ghoul before she had time to intervene. Even though she had done a thorough job of eradicating them, one could never be completely sure.

Nothing happened and the boy continued his walk. For fifteen more minutes he kept going and she followed him unrelentingly at several dozen meters of distance, both behind him and above him. His legs carried him to the part of the city where most business administrative offices were situated. During daytime the place overflowed with people and life but at this hour it might as well have been a ghost town.

At one point he reached an intersection that connected several different parts of the city and stopped completely. He just stood there without doing anything for several minutes, but even from a distance Ciel could tell that he was rather tense.

And then, slowly, he turned around.

Though she was clad in dark robes and hiding in the shadows of a rooftop, there was no doubt in Ciel's mind that the boy with golden eyes was looking straight at her.

They both stood still, staring at each other like two wolves measuring the other. Ciel didn't know who the boy was, but just the fact that he had been able to spot her was proof enough that he was dangerous on some level. She knew as of that moment that someone else had taken an interest in the events of Misaki, though there was no hint as to which group this person belonged to.

The stalemate was broken when the boy inclined his head in acknowledgement. It was a far cry from an offering of peace but it carried the message that he held no hostility toward her. She returned the nod and with another gesture of her head she motioned from him to follow her.

* * *

><p>Shirou took a deep breath and walked after the girl clad in the nun-like outfit. In Misaki for less than three hours and he had already stumbled across a member of one of the major powers that could have taken an interest in the events of Misaki.<p>

For well over an hour he had felt the presence of the Executor following him around and had feigned obliviousness, hoping that he would be left alone. It hadn't worked as well as he had hoped, though that wasn't a big surprise. Anyone going around at night lately was bound to arouse suspicions even in the mundane authorities. Now that the Executor had her eyes set on him there was no slipping back into comfortable anonymity.

Well, at least he would perhaps get some answers of his own from this exchange.

Cautiously he entered an alley between two buildings that connected two major roads. It was long and narrow space. Not the best place for maneuverability if he had to fight, but hopefully it wouldn't come down to that.

"Good evening," he greeted the Executor, who was standing with her arms extended non-threateningly by her sides.

"Who are you?" the teenage girl asked without pleasantries. She didn't look older than seventeen, which meant more or less nothing when it came to certain lines of work. Age did not necessarily equal experience and dangerousness for those who meddled with the supernatural.

"Names are a bit of an inconvenience, Executor," Shirou replied warmly but firmly, clarifying his being in the loop of things. "Let us not part with them for now."

"Fine," the girl acquiesced, sounding not too pleased with his answer. "Which group do you belong to?"

"I suppose you could consider me a freelancer of sorts, though I'm fairly acquainted with the Clock Tower," Shirou partially lied. There was a certain amount of protection to be gained from the other organizations by belonging to another major power. While Shirou was technically a non-entity in the eyes of the Mage's Association there was no need to let the Executor know that.

"A Magus then," the girl concluded. Her tone didn't seem to hold the disdain many members of the Church had toward the _heretics_, according to Kiritsugu's experience. "Were you tasked to track and eliminate the Dead Apostle in this city?"

Shirou barely narrowed his eyes at the confirmation of the presence of a vampire in the city. The lackluster methods of the Dead Apostle had him almost convinced that it was just a mundane murderer on the loose. Now that he knew that such wasn't the case, he was sure that the actual number of victims had to be higher than what transpired from the media.

"No," he replied evenly. "My business in Misaki is purely personal and was almost entirely unrelated to the Dead Apostle."

"Almost entirely?" she further inquired. He gave a shrug.

"I was in town and decided to check out the rumors of a vampire, rooting it out if they turned out to be founded."

"If you have no official assignment I would like to ask you not to concern yourself with this matter," the girl asked politely, but firmly enough to convey the message that a negative answer would not be well received. Or accepted.

"And the reason for that would be?" Shirou asked evenly. Before challenging the Executor he wanted to know if there was a good reason behind her request.

"This Dead Apostle is immune to most methods of elimination," the Executor began stiffly. "Certain specific tools are required to dispose of it permanently. Destroying his physical body would only cause and encourage him to go into hiding again."

Shirou stiffened at the revelation. Upon becoming vampires, barring innate abilities and previous knowledge of Magecraft, Dead Apostles gained only an augmentation of their physical skill and enhanced predatory instincts. They could still be killed by mundane tools if one was fast and strong enough to overcome them. To have developed an ability that prevented death, even by feats of Magecraft, meant that this Dead Apostle was in all likelihood…

"An Ancestor?" he asked worriedly.

"Not quite, but only out of a technicality."

"Very well," Shirou agreed after a long moment of pondering. He didn't like being unable to do anything, but the truth was that all of his offensive tools were nothing but glorified mundane weapons. Excellent and versatile, no doubt, but definitely not suited to handle an opponent of this caliber. "I will not try to eliminate this Dead Apostle, but I was more concerned with the safety of the general population. I will continue patrolling and eliminating any Ghoul I come across. I will not compromise on that."

"Concern for random strangers?" the girl inclined his head in curiosity and mistrust. "That's quite unusual, especially for a Mage."

"Not everything and everyone can be classified by labels and preconceptions," the redhead shook his head. "And even if they could there would always be exceptions."

"Humph. I have no reason to refuse help that would accelerate the exposure of the Dead Apostle," the girl reasoned, seemingly not too pleased with the fact that she had to share her hunting ground because she had no valid reason not to. "But don't give me any reason to regret this choice and come after you, Magus."

"I'll strive not to," Shirou conceded. "Have a good night, Executor."

They both walked a few steps backwards before turning around and walking to opposite sides of the alley.

Well, Shirou reasoned once he was again in the open space of the main road, things were much grimmer than he had first thought. A powerful Dead Apostle on the loose was no joking matter. He had to inform Medea about it. The Heroic Spirit would not be pleased about the news one bit.

He was not looking forward to having that conversation.

* * *

><p><strong><span>The next morning<span>**

"Master, I insist you return at once," Medea pleaded over the phone. "Conclude your business with the Tohno family and come back home."

"Medea, I can't simply ignore this situation," the stubborn Magus replied. "There are too many lives at stake."

"And yours is one of them," she hissed at him. "Stop being a fool and let it go. The Church is already taking care of it."

"That's not an excuse to turn my back on the problem," Shirou protested vehemently. "Even just one more person keeping the Ghouls off the streets means less people dying. I don't have the means to engage the Dead Apostle directly so I don't plan to go anywhere near him, and I can snipe down Ghouls before they even realize my presence."

"What if the Dead Apostle makes a move against you?" Medea demanded.

"Then I'll run," he told her bluntly. "I have enough tricks up my sleeve to simultaneously distract him from me and to attract the attention of the Executor to the scene."

"You're taking too many things for granted. For all you know, the Dead Apostle could possess some advanced Thaumaturgy you won't even be able to see through. You can't account for everything, Shirou. You aren't prepared nearly well enough for this. Please, let it go," Medea pleaded, more concern in her voice than ever before.

"I can't. I really can't. I won't back down from this. I'm sorry."

"THEN WHY DID YOU EVEN BOTHER TELLING ME?" she finally snapped, shouting into the phone. The plastic receiver cracked under the pressure of her grip. "Do you enjoy me worrying for you without being able to do anything? Why?"

"Because I just didn't want to do anything behind your back, damn it!" he snapped from the other end of the line. "I wanted you to know that you can trust me to be honest with you."

"Fine! Then go get yourself killed, you idiot. See what I care!" She slammed down the receiver, cutting the communication. "You idiot," she added dejectedly, immediately regretting her outburst. She was supposed to be the mature and cool headed one, but Shirou got under her skin far too easily and she equally hated and liked it.

A moment later the phone rang again. She let it ring a couple of times, hoping that it was him so that she could reconcile despite her pride screaming against the simple thought of apologizing for being reasonable. She picked up the received gingerly.

"Emiya Household," she said into the phone.

"It's Tohsaka. Is that you, Caster?"

"Ah, ojou-san," she sighed in disappointment.

"You don't seem happy to hear from me," Tohsaka pointed out, a tad too amusedly. "Were you expecting someone else?"

Yes, but she didn't need to know it.

"What's the reason for your call, ojou-san?" she asked instead.

"I was wondering if I could drop by later today to get those books Emiya-kun mentioned the other day."

"Do you want to come over here or would you prefer to meet on neutral grounds?"

"Emiya's place is fine," the teenage Magus replied after a brief moment of consideration. "I'll come over with Saber immediately after school. Would that be fine with you?"

"I'll have them ready by that time," she replied unenthusiastically.

"Thank you. I'll see you later then."

"Until then."

She placed the receiver back down and waited for it to ring again. One minute became two and then three. When it was evident that Shirou wasn't about to call back she sighed heavily and went about her business, wondering how exactly had she become so weak as to have her heart swayed by the whims of a boy a third her age.

Love truly was both a blessing and a curse. Perhaps one she would do better without.

* * *

><p>Laying down on his bed at the hotel, Shirou dropped his phone by his side.<p>

He had almost immediately tried to call Medea back but his attempts were for naught, as the phone gave the annoying, repeating noise of the number called being already occupied with another conversation. He didn't know if Medea was actually on the phone with someone else or if his old fashioned home phone had been hanged up badly, but maybe it was for the best.

Displeased as he was with how the discussion with Medea had gone, it was still better to let her cool down a little. He could understand where the Heroic Spirit's discontent was coming from; after all, he too would be upset if he knew that someone was in danger and he could do nothing about it. However, the Heroic Spirit's concern was probably reserved for him alone, and that was exactly the reason for their differing opinions.

To be honest he felt somewhat troubled about it all. While happy that Medea was breaking out of her carefully crafted shell by caring about someone else, it bothered him to no end that she was worrying about him of all people.

He had made a clear choice in life and had no intention to go back on his promises. Perhaps Medea had a problem understanding his feelings and ideals, but he could only live by them. Apologizing for them would be the same as thinking they were wrong. He couldn't do that, but he could at least apologize for worrying her.

That was a thing for later though. He had a busy day ahead of him. He intended to spend the morning scouting the city. Ghouls were inactive during daytime but he could at least employ his sixth sense to try and locate areas where they might have been more active at night. Normally he could analyze wide areas at once, but with the Prana enriched atmosphere of Misaki dampening his senses he had to do it street by street, while keeping in mind that he had a meeting with Tohno Makihisa's successor, a woman by the name of Akiha in the late afternoon.

He had no reason not to start immediately.

* * *

><p>There was a sense of tense awkwardness when Rin rang the doorbell beside the gate of Emiya's house<p>

It was a rare occurrence to enter another practitioner's home, as it usually was the gateway to their Workshop. It was all the more rare in the context of the Holy Grail War, regardless of the extenuating circumstances of this installment of centuries-old conflict.

Though her sense of security was bolstered by Saber's presence, Rin didn't fear treading on these grounds at the present time because there was no reason for a betrayal. That might change later, as the conflict evolved, but the current cease-fire was enforced by reasons beyond the whims of the parties involved.

That didn't mean she wouldn't play it safe though.

"Caster is here," Saber declared a moment before the door was pulled open. When it happened, Rin found herself seeing for the first time Caster's true features.

She was, admittedly, a very attractive woman in her mid-twenties with purple hair and elfin ears. Dressed in a plain, cream colored sweater and blue skirt she might have passed for a housewife, if not for the piercing gaze that most people never managed nor needed to develop.

"Welcome, both of you," she greeted tersely. "Please come inside."

"Thank you," both Master and Servant replied, stepping inside the house after removing their shoes.

"I have prepared the tomes as per my Master's instructions," she explained as she led them through the house. "I took the liberty of highlighting some relevant paragraphs in Emiya Kiritsugu's notes on the previous conflicts. There's not much in there that we haven't discussed in our previous meeting, but perhaps with your family knowledge of the Grail System you will be able to figure out something we missed."

"I hope so," Rin replied evenly while she scanned the interior of Emiya's house. The place was a big as her mansion, though not nearly as opulent. Somehow it seemed to reflect Emiya's humble nature.

"Since you are here, would you like a cup of tea? You can begin looking over the tomes immediately and I could answer any questions you might have. While there's not much I can add about the Grail as of now, I have a better understanding of Guildford's Magecraft than anyone else."

"I'd appreciate that," she replied earnestly. Compatibility of Magecrafts aside, it wasn't everyday that one could receive teaching from a Mage of the Age of Gods. Such occasions were not to be passed without a damn good reason, all the more so when they came for free.

Caster led them to the living room and invited them to sit at the table, where the books Rin was looking for were situated. Saber entered the room immediately after the other Servant and before her Master, keeping herself between the two at all times. The blonde Servant sat beside her Master and waited while Caster entered the kitchen to put the water on the stove.

Not five minutes later they were sitting at the same table, sharing a cup of tea in an awkward silence.

"So," Rin put down her cup, "Emiya's really out of town. What's he up to at a time like this, if I might ask?"

The look in Caster's made it clear that she was debating answering a question that was by all means none of Rin's business.

"My Master," Caster replied, "has taken an interest in the events of Misaki."

"The serial killer case?" Rin asked back. "I guess that's something right up his alley, all things considered, but I thought he wanted not to attract attention to himself and to Fuyuki via his reputation as vigilante. What's he thinking at a time like this?"

"It seems that my foolish Master cannot disregard anyone's plight no matter how inconvenient or dangerous it is to himself," Caster sighed. "I tried to convince him not to involve himself with this problem but my insistence has been for naught. He went as far as asking the approval of the Executor tasked to purge the Dead Apostle."

Wait, what?

"Are you saying that the serial killer is an actual vampire?" She asked, almost standing on feet in surprise. "Oh well, if it's so incompetent as to let even mundane authorities tag him as such it must probably be a stray fledgling of some other Dead Apostle. If Emiya-kun was able to handle a trained Magus in his own territory he shouldn't have much trouble with an inexperienced vampire if he covers his bases appropriately."

"I wish I could share your optimism," Caster scoffed, entirely unamused. "According to the Executor this vampire can't be killed by normal means, and he's equal to an Ancestor in regards to the threat he poses."

Rin eyes went wide in shock. Emiya was taking part in the Hunt of a Dead Apostle eligible to join the ranks of the Ancestors? She knew that he was good on some level when it came to fighting, but had she underestimated his ability to such a degree? Dead Apostle Ancestors were the strongest members of their kind, barring True Ancestors, and while not at the level of a Servant they were still fearsome creatures that no ordinary Magus wanted to trifle with.

"Your Master," Saber spoke for the first time, meeting the other Servant's eyes, "seems to be a valiant man. You should be proud of him."

Caster glared at her. "I have no need for you to tell me that. I'm very proud of him, I just wish he wouldn't endanger himself when I cannot help."

"I don't envy you," Rin said hiding her smirk behind her cup. "Having to put up with Emiya-kun's shenanigans must be more than you bargained with."

Caster's glare switched to the other Magus, but her rage soon deflated, replaced for a fleeing moment by the ghost of a smile, so brief that that Rin thought she had imagined it. There was a story behind that; she just knew it.

"Admittedly, I knew of Shirou's foolishness long before I forged a Contract with him. I'm afraid I have only myself to blame for my plights." Rin didn't miss the fondness in Caster's voice, as she appeared to recall events she wasn't privy to.

… How annoying.

"You don't sounds too upset about your Master's lack of common sense," she pointed out.

"I don't see how that is any of your business," Caster told her flatly, her usual cold self restored. "Now, do you need my input on anything related to Magecraft or the Grail?"

"Nothing right now," Rin replied, eyeing the stack of books and notebooks. "I'm going to go through them and get back to you in a week at the latest."

"That's fine. Shirou should be back as well by then, so we can go over whatever you found together."

"We'll take our leave then. Thank you for your hospitality."

Caster escorted them back to the main entrance and they left in the direction of Rin's place after a polite farewell.

"What was your impression of Caster, Saber?" the Magus asked as they walked at a leisure pace.

"I felt no enmity whatsoever from her, which is not unexpected at this point in time," Saber replied, her voice clinical. "She did seem honestly concerned about her Master's well being, which would be natural if we didn't already know that she doesn't require one to sustain herself. It conflicts with both our impressions of her."

"I agree. I wonder what Emiya-kun has done to gain the loyalty of that woman."

"I admit that I am curious myself," Saber replied. "I mean no offense by this, Master, but those who dabble in the Thaumaturgical arts are usually not very forthcoming with their trust, and Caster's Master seems to be a notable exception to that rule. Considering that he was even able to gain a measure of your respect, that could be part of the reason."

"Maybe. Anyway it works to our advantage. I have the impression that Caster wouldn't cross her Master and backstab us unless we openly pose a threat to them first."

"I agree," Saber nodded. "This way we can focus on figuring out the details of the present situation. I believe I can be of help with that," she said hefting the half of the books she was carrying.

"Uh. Do you have a working knowledge of Magecraft?"

"You seem to forget, Master," Saber smiled, "that my mentor was a Magus as well. I could have become a practitioner myself if the precepts of Magecraft weren't unsuited for a King. However, I still received enough tutoring over the years to understand the subject when it's being discussed."

Rin almost wanted to sigh in bliss. Having summoned the King of Knights was getting better and better with each passing day. The situation with the Grail was less than optimal, but she couldn't deny that there were perks to it, some of which she was carrying in her arms.

To think that she would be able to get her paws on some rare tomes without paying a single yen for them made having spent several weeks worrying about a loose Caster all worthwhile. She had to refrain from skipping like a child, but she allowed herself to hasten her pace a little.

Understanding her Master's eagerness, Saber silently kept up with her.

* * *

><p>Shirou spent the entire morning studying Misaki's streets. He found, of course, not one trace of the Dead Apostle or its thralls but that was to be expected. Though not outright lethal like in the common lore, the sunlight hastened the decaying process that all undead had to counter by drinking blood. Preying during daytime was a fruitless effort and liable to make unwanted witnesses.<p>

The morning hours went by fairly quickly and soon enough it came time for his meeting with Tohno Akiha. As such Shirou made his way up the hill that led to the wealthy family's mansion. The opulent structure was as intimidating as ever and reflected perfectly the magnitude of the Tohno's financial and business prowess.

At the gate a maid was waiting for his arrival. The girl that appeared to be around his age introduced herself as Hisui. She had a strangely emotionless look, which unsettled Shirou a little bit, and addressed him formally as Emiya-sama, which unsettled Shirou a great deal more.

Understanding the strict protocol she had to abide by in her profession he didn't try to dissuade her from using that suffix, but he at least returned the politeness by bowing just as much as her as he introduced himself. She didn't seem to pay it any notice.

"Akiha-sama will be here shortly," she said after showing him to the living room. By the looks of it, the furniture alone was worth as much as his house. As he waited, his eyes traveled through the dustless and spotless room.

The atmosphere was different from the last time he visited. The low hum of people moving around the house was now completely absent, almost like it was completely uninhabited. However, while it was much quieter, the air felt a lot heavier.

It only served to reinforce Shirou's opinion of Makihisa's death.

The sound of soft footsteps announced the arrival of his host, directing Shirou's musings to more pressing matters.

* * *

><p>Tohno Akiha was a young girl of fifteen years with a troubled life. From her early childhood she was groomed to be a proper lady according to the very high standards of her family, and as such was used to being under pressure and having to keep up with extreme expectations.<p>

In hindsight it served to prepare her for her current ordeal. With her father's passing and her brother not being suited for the role, it fell upon her to be the new family's head: a duty far more difficult that one could imagine, especially for a teenage girl. Handling her studies without faltering in her grades, keeping up with her social interactions and handling the family's business had put a strain on her, and she had been forced to delay and postpone many appointments and deadlines.

This meeting was one such appointment. When she was forced to plan her agenda for the several next months the name Emiya slid down several weeks as it was a business transaction of little value compared to the amounts of money the Tohno family made flow every day, as well as a completely new client. The reason it hadn't slipped further down the list of appointments was because he was one of the few that hadn't pretended to be particularly important: he had graciously agreed to postpone the agreed deadline, thus passing in front of those who hadn't and were subsequently being taught a lesson by being ignored until there was no one else.

That being said, in her mind Emiya Shirou had been just a name among many, and one she hadn't taken a particular interest until the day of their meeting approached. She would have treated it as just another minor transaction if Kohaku hadn't pointed out that he had been one client that her late father had wanted to meet in person, in his own personal study at the mansion: an honor reserved only for the most important business partners, or for those people that Tohno Makihisa deemed intriguing.

Nothing in her father's note as well as the nature of the transaction pegged him as one of the former, just as Akiha's subsequent inquiries had revealed. Emiya Shirou was essentially a nobody with a little bit of money to waste. Therefore he had to belong to the latter group.

Through her influential connections she had managed to dig up everything publicly known about him, and he proved utterly unremarkable. Seeing as nothing of that could have piqued her father's interest, she moved further up along his (adoptive) family. His deceased father had a much more substantial folder to his name, and was also far more interesting.

Emiya Kiritsugu was mentioned as being involved in at least a hundred conflicts of differing scales, spanning from eliminations of drug cartels to civil wars and that was only among the events known to the general public. His name also came up repeatedly through her father's connections with those parts of the world that normal people relegated to the imaginary, making him and by extension his son members of her sort of people.

Suddenly meeting with Emiya Shirou was no longer as much of a trivial matter as she had first thought. As she went into the room where she had made him wait, she wondered what kind of person the son of the infamous Magus Killer would turn out to be.

"Good afternoon, Emiya-san," she greeted as soon as she saw him. Though she had a few pictures of him gathered through her connections, some with him less than fully clothed courtesy of the female student body of his school, the redhead with golden eyes was both taller and sturdier than what she had expected him to be.

His height and build, combined with the immaculate Versace suit he was wearing for the occasion, made him look imposing and closer to an eighteen-year-old man than his actual age. "I'm Tohno Akiha, current head of the Tohno family. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise, Tohno-san," Emiya replied as he bowed. "Please accept my condolences for your father's premature passing."

Well, he did sound honest enough, which was a change from the usual well-wishers. For that matter he sounded more honest in his condolences than any member of her family. Not that it took much effort.

"Thank you. Please have a seat."

They both sat on the luxurious sofas and not a moment later another maid walked in with a tray of tea for two.

"I apologize for the delay in concluding this business," she said after they finished drinking. "Father's unexpected passing has caused much turmoil in the family's business."

"I can imagine," Emiya replied sympathetically. "And there's no need to apologize. I wasn't in any rush to have those materials."

"Nevertheless, we pride ourselves on always keeping our end of a bargain. If anything, I owe you at least a discount."

"I don't really think there's a need for that," the redhead laughed, "but far be it from me to dissuade you from taking less of my money."

"Very well, then. Your purchase will be delivered here tomorrow morning. That way you can check the goods before concluding the exchange. Would that be agreeable?"

"Very much so."

"Good. On a different topic altogether I take it that your lodgings have been to your satisfaction."

"Admittedly, it's a bit different from what I'm used to," he replied as he poured himself another cup of tea. "Living in a traditional Japanese-style mansion, I'm not all that accustomed with using a bed, though I have a few for the guests."

"I see," Akiha replied evenly. "If you don't mind me asking, Emiya-san, do you know why my father agreed to receive you here at the mansion and with such a short notice?"

"Hmm," the redhead hummed as he sipped his drink. "I was surprised myself, to be honest. I believe it was because he had some curiosity about my father rather than any interest he could have had in me. I don't think I am what he thought my father's son would be."

"Be that as it may, Emiya-san, father didn't seem disappointed with what he saw in you. Not many people have been able to pique his interest."

"He was an interesting man as well," the boy said. "Even though I met him just once he had an unmistakable presence. A person like that must have made himself plenty of enemies."

"Indeed," Akiha agreed wholeheartedly.

"Though it's a tragedy," he said in a deceptively calm voice, "it's not surprising that he was killed in such a manner."

Akiha's heart froze like it had been stabbed by an icicle. Her eyes locked onto Emiya's like a heat seeking missile

"Ah," a gasp of startled realization escaped her lips. She had fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Even though it was nothing more than a panicked glance shot at her guest, she had fallen for Emiya's bluff.

"So my assumption was correct, after all," he sighed putting down his teacup and running a hand through his hair. "I was hoping to be wrong. Sorry for tricking you like that."

"How did you know?" she asked, measuring her words carefully.

"Well, as I said he struck me as the kind of person who had many enemies. Through my own connections with the underworld I knew that there was at least some possibility that it was not a case of natural death. And then…"

"Yes?"

"Then there is this malevolent aura that shrouds this mansion. Even though there are less people, it's more intense than the first time I visited. It's as if a curse struck this place."

"I see that you live up to your father's reputation," she said in a cold tone. All pleasantness had disappeared from her voice. Akiha was gone and the head of the Tohno Conglomerate was sitting in her place. She had mistakenly allowed herself to fall for Emiya's laidback attitude, forgetting momentarily who he was. "What is it that you plan to do with this knowledge, son of the Magus Killer?"

"Do you need protection?" he asked bluntly.

"W-what?" she stuttered, caught off guard by the strange question.

"The culprits haven't been caught yet, have they?" he asked in what appeared to be genuine worry. "Is there a chance they might come after you next?"

Akiha was so outraged that she almost stood to her feet. "What makes you believe I'm not able to protect myself?"

"Your father was killed in this very house, at a time when it was full of other people; relatives of yours as far as I could gather," he explained. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it was an inside job, regardless of who actually dealt the killing blow. Unless it was you who had orchestrated Makihisa's death—and forgive me, you don't really strike me as a murdering type—I can see that not many would have been happy with the headship falling to you."

"That's none of your business," she hissed, throwing out the composure she had been taught to hold onto under all circumstances. "An outsider shouldn't stick his nose where it doesn't belong."

"I… I'm sorry," he stuttered, genuinely taken aback by her outburst. "I didn't mean to pry into your business. Forgive me. I should probably leave now."

"Yes, that would be best," she replied, managing to restrain herself again. "Kohaku will show you out. Kohaku!"

"Yes, Akiha-sama?" the maid asked, appearing a moment later. No doubt she had been listening in to their conversation.

"Please show Emiya-san to the door. This meeting is over."

* * *

><p>"Well," Shirou winced as the iron gate closed behind him with more force than was needed. "Way to make an ass out of yourself, Emiya. It seems like I only manage to piss women off today no matter what I do. Anyway, it looks like I have to keep an eye on this place as well, after all. Damn, and I here thought that the situation in Fuyuki was messed up."<p>

He glanced at his wristwatch and saw that it was only five in the afternoon. Well, that meant that he had enough time to go back to the hotel and change into something more suited to moving around inconspicuously and prepare for his night patrol.

As usual, there was no rest for the weary on the path to becoming a Hero of Justice.

* * *

><p>Akiha watched from the window as Emiya left the perimeter of the mansion, disappearing behind the gate that surrounded it.<p>

That hadn't gone well by any stretch of the imagination. Not only had she allowed herself to be taken by surprise by Emiya's ruse and sharp deduction, but she had also lashed out needlessly at a genuine offer of help.

Yes, Emiya had undoubtedly forgotten his place, but Akiha had been trained since she was a child to understand other people's intentions. There was no doubt in her mind that Emiya was sincerely offering his help. Her reaction hadn't been proper to her station as Head of the family and more importantly it hadn't been fair to Emiya. She would apologize to him the next morning and she would stress, in a more polite manner, that while his offer was appreciated, the problem of the Tohno family would be dealt with by the Tohno family itself.

"Akiha-sama," Kohaku called as she entered the room. "_He's_ here."

And all of a sudden all thoughts of her father, all thoughts of Emiya, and all thoughts as the head of the family melted away like snow under the sun.

Nii-san was home.

* * *

><p><em>The sun disappeared behind the horizon again, shrouding the city in a thick blanket of darkness. With the dwindling light the people of Misaki deserted the streets as well, leaving the city as an empty shell of its usual self. It was the perfect scenario for those who made the darkness something to be feared.<em>

_Four different individuals stepped into the night, each with a prey in mind._

_A girl in priestly robes and a heart filled with hatred leapt through the sky, looking for the undying snake. _

_A man in a long, dark overcoat sniffed the air like a beast, searching for the princess who had woken from her slumber. _

_A boy with red hair and a single purpose in life walked the streets in search for people in need of salvation. _

_A blond girl whose appearance didn't match her age was looking for the man who had stolen a part of her._

_All of them were people to be wary of. None of them would easily fall prey to the other if they were to meet. All of them were more or less aware of the dangers hidden in the shadows of Misaki._

_However, there was one more person that knew nothing of all this._

_Yumizuka Satsuki was for all intents and purposes a completely unremarkable girl, average in all regards. A teenager like many others, without concerns beside those of modern day teenagers: getting fairly decent grades at a school, hanging out with friends, getting her crush to notice her._

_Normal things for normal girls._

_Though she often fantasized of great things for herself, usually involving a certain bespectacled classmate, she never once actually thought that her life would be anything but absolutely normal. Of course she didn't; what reason did she have to believe otherwise?_

_Eventually she would graduate from high school, get into an average university and from there she'd land an average employment of some sort. Later she would get married, maybe even have a couple of children, and live her life until she passed away serenely in her own bed._

_It was so simple, so straightforward, and she felt it so strongly that it would be absurd to believe otherwise._

_Therefore, she reasoned that what was happening to her had to be impossible, just a mere nightmare. There was no way she could be there by herself, in a dark alley with the fangs of a monster buried in her throat._

_As her lifeblood was drained from her body and consciousness slipped away, she could only hope to wake up soon._

_She would indeed wake up again, and quite soon at that, but that didn't mean the nightmare would be over. _

_Isn't it sad?_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Whoa! It's been over two months since I last updated this story. Not cool. In my defense I've update my other FSN story twice in the mean time. For the next few months I will stick with this story and I'll try to keep a two-weeks update rate. I'm not promising anything though.<p> 


	26. The measure of a monster

**Chapter 25 – The measure of a monster**  
>(Published: 10.30.13 - Beta: RavingScholar)<p>

* * *

><p>The sun was nearly setting over the city of Misaki as Shirou was making his way back to the hotel from his less than spectacular meeting with Tohno Akiha. That piece of business could have been definitely handled better, but there was no use crying over split milk.<p>

As it was almost dinnertime, Shirou chose to eat something in town. He was in the mood for some classic Japanese cuisine, and the restaurant inside the hotel served exclusively western-style food because it catered mainly foreign visitors.

His feet soon carried him to the center of the city, filled with people returning home from work or school. The city, bustling with life, was so different from its nighttime self that it might as well have been a whole other place altogether.

Not familiar with the local restaurants, Shirou trailed after a group of high school students whom he overhead talking about eating out. Trusting them to know better about the area, he entered a small restaurant where most of the clientele consisted of boys and girls around his age.

He sat at a table and picked up a menu without paying any particular attention to the other patrons. Only when he placed his order and the waitress left did he look around, his eyes meeting those of a recently met, yet familiar person.

Two tables away, the Executor from the previous night sat with a spoonful of curry halfway to her mouth. Her eyes were wide with recognition behind a pair of spectacles that she hadn't worn the last time he saw her, while her mouth went to barely open in mid-mouthfuls to gape in surprise. Truthfully it was almost a comical sight for Shirou, though the teen was not all that amused, as his mind processed the scope of the scene.

The Executor was dressed in a school uniform and sitting among other students dressed similarly. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was a disguise, and the only reason an emissary from the Holy Church would infiltrate and get through the burdens of high-school life was to track her prey. Of course, that meant something even more disturbing: the Dead Apostle was somehow connected to the institution she attended, maybe posing as a student or as a member of the faculty.

Hiding in plain sight, like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

The establishment was filled with chatter but it might as well been dead silent for the two locked in a staring contest. There was but one message in the Exdcutor's eyes that even Shirou couldn't miss.

_'Stay out of my business.'_

An eternity seemed to pass in one moment, and then Shirou nodded in acquiescence, drawing a similar gesture from the disguised Executor.

Truth be told, while this new revelation was unsettling, it didn't change the fact that he was still under-prepared and under-equipped to deal with an opponent of the caliber of this Dead Apostle. All of his good intentions meant nothing if the only thing he could accomplish was hindering the efforts of those who could actually do something. Still, he kept his eyes open and scanned the students in her company, memorizing their faces just in case.

* * *

><p><em>'Ah, damn,'<em> she cursed inwardly. _'What are the odds?'_

Seriously, it's not like she was hiding—well, not from this Magus at least, but while he agreed not to meddle with her operations she didn't want him snooping too close to where Roa was hiding.

"Ne, Ciel-san," one of the other girls turned to speak to her, snapping her out of his musing, "is there anyone you like?"

"W-what!" she shrieked, almost dropping her spoon. "Why would you ask that?"

"Oh, no reason, really. I just noticed that you've been spending an awful lot of time with the underclassmen so I thought you liked someone there."

She almost sighed. She should have seen the gossiping coming when they invited her out for dinner. She cursed herself for accepting the invitation when she should have kept her usual distance from her apparent age group, but the very mention that this restaurant was having "Curry Night" all but shut down her brain higher functions and she went along with them almost in a daze.

When she snapped out of it – three servings later – it was too late to do anything about it and now she had to deal with this situation. Great job, 'Yumi'.

"That's not all there is to it, is there?" she asked through narrowed eyes.

"Ah, seen right through me, have you?" the other girl chuckled. "I wasn't really curious, to be honest. It's just that my little kohai here," she patted the head of a twin-tailed brown headed girl at her side, "has a crush on that boy you've been often speaking with, lately."

"Eek!" the aforementioned redhead squeaked indignantly in betrayal. "S-s-senpai! What are you saying?"

"Bah, there's no use in hiding it, Sa-chan," the older girl said, "everyone knows about it by now. I think that the only person around the school who hasn't noticed it yet is the guy himself and maybe that odd guy he hangs around with."

The girl, Sa-chan—Yumizuka Satsuki as Ciel mind recalled—looked down in mortification. Ciel hadn't known that particular piece of information, to be honest, but she wasn't all that surprised about it. _He_ was rather cute especially without his glasses and… no. That was wrong on all levels. Though there was still a chance he wasn't actually Roa's host, that simple thought was absolutely out of place.

"We're barely acquaintances," she explained, smiling in the pleasant persona she put up as _Ciel_. "He helped with something around the school and we chatted a bit a few times. I'm not going to steal him from you, Yumizuka-san."

The younger girl just gave the barest of nods without looking up from own lap, face still ablaze in blatant embarrassment. Ah, the things she had to deal with to maintain her cover were just barely less of a hassle than altering everyone's memories of her on a daily basis, and that was the only reason why she didn't do the latter.

That and the curry, of course.

* * *

><p>Well, Shirou thought as he watched the exchange, nothing out of the ordinary here. He couldn't hear what they were talking about with his normal hearing, and he didn't dare use Magecraft needlessly in her presence, but it seemed like an ordinary late afternoon out between friends.<p>

He shouldn't have been all that surprised since he, too, was an abnormal person living among normal people and even Executors were human beings…usually.

Finishing his meal, he paid for it and left the establishment, sending one last nod to the Executor, unseen by her companions. He stepped out of the building and walked in the direction of his hotel. Soon the sun would set completely and he would start his patrol with the cover of darkness.

* * *

><p>Night fell, and with it darkness shrouded the city. Slowly, the number of people on the streets started to dwindle until only a few reckless or fearless individuals could be seen on the streets.<p>

Yumizuka Satsuki counted herself as one of the former and certainly not one of the latter, considering she was shaking like a leaf and jumped at every shadow. Normally she would be the first person to lock herself inside her house at a time like this: she was quite the scaredy-cat and courage was not her strongest point. After all, she couldn't even confess her feelings to the boy she liked.

So, she asked herself to stave off the fear, what was a person like her doing out on the streets at night, a few hours past midnight and with a serial killer on the loose? What manner of madness had possessed her to slip out of her room's window after her parents went to bed?

A rumor. Nothing more than the simple rumor that _he_ had been seen wandering around the city in the evening. She didn't know if it was actually true, if she could even stumble upon him by searching everywhere and nowhere in particular, nor even sure what she would do if she actually did found him.

Even just occasionally speaking to him at school, a safe and known environment, required her all of her courage. In fact she could barely manage to make him acknowledge her presence every day, and perhaps she hoped that outside of the usual setting he would see her in a different light, or at the very least actually see her.

So her legs carried her around for hours: searching, snooping in places she would have done better to stay far away from. As time went by there were less and less people around, until she found herself alone on that particular street.

The eerie silence suddenly felt heavy upon her, and though she couldn't see anyone she felt like a thousand eyes were staring right at her. Her heartbeat started to race in her chest as the shadows started to loom upon her menacingly.

She forced herself to swallow, convincing herself that she was just being paranoid. Perhaps… perhaps this was enough. She had been looking for hours and caught no glimpse of him or any other student from her school. She could go back home now. No, she should have been back home by now already.

Forcing herself not to turn back and not to run either, she started to walk a fast pace toward a safe place. Ten meters, twenty meters, thirty meters. The farther she went the heavier the air seemed to become, and the sensation of being watched grew in intensity with every single step. She was sweating now and she started glancing behind her back to see if she was being followed.

There was nothing but empty street and scary shadows, of course. She was just being paranoid, she told herself. There's nobody out there, she forced herself to think, but for all of her efforts she kept looking behind her back instead of in front of her.

That's why she never saw the human figure turning the corner, and she walked right into it.

Falling backward from the impact, she screamed her lungs out in terror.

* * *

><p>"Oooff!" Shirou exhaled as the lithe body impacted against his chest.<p>

"KYAAAA!" the girl screamed, staring at him utterly terrified while she scuttled backward.

"Whoa! I'm sorry," Shirou said hastily, taking a step back himself and raising both his palms in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean to scare you."

The girl still pushed herself backward, until her back was against a wall. Only then did she allow herself to pull herself up to a standing position.

"Are you alright, miss?" he asked after a moment, still keeping his distance from the obviously startled girl.

"I… I'm okay," she breathed deeply, one hand on her chest as if to slow her racing heart. "I'm sorry for reacting like that."

"No apology necessary," he tried to smile reassuringly. "I was lost in thought myself and turned the corner at the worst possible time."

The girl chuckled awkwardly, understandably still wary of a stranger at night. "I wasn't looking were I was walking either. I'm sorry."

"No harm done," he replied, finally lowering his hands. "Ah, I don't really mean to stick my nose into your business, miss, but it's not a good thing to be out at night alone lately. Especially for a girl."

"I- I was actually going back home right now."

"Hm," he acknowledged. "Then, would you like me to escort you? Oh," he said as he saw her expression steer toward the fearful again. "Sorry, that's probably the kind of thing a person you should avoid would say. You don't even know me."

"R-right," she agreed hastily, putting a bit more distance between them.

"Well," he sighed. "You should really head straight back home now. Be careful on your way."

"I will," she nodded, straightening up properly. "Thank you. And sorry about freaking out like that."

"It's perfectly understandable, miss…?"

"Ah, my name is Yumizuka Satsuki."

"Emiya Shirou," he returned politely with a smile. "Now we are a bit less of strangers, I guess. Good night, Yumizuka-san."

"Good night."

He crossed the road bowing once more when he was on the other side. The girl still didn't move and just watched him get farther away, probably fearing he would chase her when she wasn't looking. Only when he had turned the next corner, disappearing from sight, she resumed walking.

Well, at least she was being as prudent as she could in the circumstances.

Perhaps, he thought as he continued walking, it would have been better if he had insisted on escorting her home? No, she was understandably not keen on the prospect of walking with a stranger that could very well be the murderer she had to avoid. Besides, he had checked every nook and cranny for any of "The Dead" in the direction she was going.

The lesser undead weren't really fast on their feet and usually relied on surprise or numbers to overcome their preys. If an area had been cleared of them, it would remain so for the foreseeable future. It was better to focus his efforts into inspecting another places of the city.

With that decided, he continued on his way.

* * *

><p>Satsuki looked behind her once more while she kept walking at a steady pace toward her house. The redheaded boy wasn't following her, of course. He was just a random person and not the serial killer everyone was so worked up over lately. She had reacted really badly over nothing, and she had been a tad rude to a person who simply offered to escort her home.<p>

Ah, well, he said it himself that they were both strangers to each other, and it was generally a bad idea to for a girl to trust an unknown man in the middle of the night. He too agreed with that thought and didn't seem offended by her lack of trust.

He was also right about the fact that she should be at home, where she would be safe, instead of running around town chasing rumors. It didn't help the fact that she couldn't get rid of the feeling of being watched all the time.

She was just being paranoid again, just like earlier. Despite her best efforts she couldn't avoid glancing backward once more, just to be safe.

It wouldn't have really changed anything if she hadn't, but it was amusing in a twisted way how that caused her to completely miss the hands bursting out the shadows of an alley, wrapping around her body and mouth and dragging her without a sound into the darkness between two buildings.

The next thing she became aware of was blinding pain and the feeling of something sharp digging into her neck. She flailed her arms, elbowing her assailant as strongly as she could. She tried to bite the hand that was holding her mouth close but she couldn't even manage to open her mouth.

The pain continued and she felt her blood – _her blood_ – being drained away from his body and into the mouth of the man, person, monster, who was sucking it with greedy, wet noises.

She was, she understood with dawning horror, being eaten, consumed, devoured. Her conscious mind couldn't muster an appropriate reaction to something like this; she could not comprehend the nature of the slithering cold that was being injected into her veins in place of her warm blood. All she knew was that it was wrong, that she shouldn't be there, that something like that could not happen to her.

She was not able to muster an appropriate response. She was a normal person who lived in a normal world and so, faced with a horror she could not understand nor deal with, she did the only possible thing she could when the hand on her mouth relaxed its hold just a little.

She screamed.

* * *

><p>The night was silent.<p>

The night was cold.

The night was still.

Just like a forest, this motionlessness meant that a predator was lurking somewhere in the darkness. To be honest, there was more than one predator and more than one prey, their roles fluid and ever-changing.

At different times in her life, Yumi had been both, and though many would consider her part of the former, the truth was that she still considered herself part of the latter, no matter how much stronger than most she actually was.

She longed for something to do, to keep her away from the memories, from the taste of blood that to that day still lingered in the back of her mouth, like a ghost that would never leave. Alas, she had no such luck. Not a single one of "The Dead" could be found anywhere she looked.

That was good, of course, because it mean that soon Roa would have to make a move personally and expose himself in the process. At the same time it made the wait excruciating. She never liked to be left alone with her thoughts. Even when she was being held prisoner and subjected to constant deaths, at least she had the physical pain to distract her.

Now, however… now there was only stillness and silence, and in that void she had only her memories to keep her company.

… This wasn't going anywhere, she thought. Roa would have to be pretty desperate to try something now of all times. With most if not all of his thralls destroyed, he would probably skip town and try to rebuild his territory somewhere else. In fact it wasn't impossible that he had already done so, abandoning the last few undead behind to give the impression that he was still somewhere in the city.

_'Tch'._ It wasn't like she hadn't considered the possibility. In fact, Dead Apostle preferred to avoid all confrontations if possible. There was little use in pursuing immortality if you stuck around when your would-be killers were almost at your throat.

Still, she knew for a fact that he had an _obsession_ with that other bloodsucker currently in town. Quite frankly, one of the reasons Yumi disliked _her_ so much was because Roa was all too fond of her: while the other reason was, well, that she was the reason why there was a Roa in the first place.

At least she would-

**"AAAAAAAAAH!"**

A desperate cry shattered the silence, echoing with despair. Without need for contemplations, Yumi run to the edge of the roof and leapt through the void, making a beeline toward the source of the scream. She was sure there were no more undead in the area from where she poinpointed the scream had come from. That could only mean…

'**_ROA!'_**

* * *

><p>Hindsight, Shirou knew all too well, is 20:20.<p>

When the desperate, feminine scream tore through the night he knew that he had made a mistake in letting Yumizuka go home alone. He knew that he had to run back fast, faster that he had ever run. He also knew that it was likely too late to do anything.

What he didn't know was how close he himself had come to needing a rescue.

He was almost in front of his hotel when he turned around and sprinted back with all of the speed granted by his Reinforced legs. Had he continued on his path unhindered, he would have undoubtedly noticed the figure clad in a black coat, all other features of his body undistinguishable except for his head, hiding in the darkness of an alley on the opposite side of the road, staring with ominous intent at the fourth floor of the building.

If he hadn't turned back, he would have become entangled with something far too far out of his league to compare, and with no consideration whatsoever for human life.

* * *

><p>Three hundred meters. Two hundred meters. One hundred meters.<p>

Yumi leapt from rooftop to rooftop with blinding speed, cracking tiles and bricks with the accelerated mass of her lithe body every time she landed and took off again.

She was racing in the direction of the scream, hoping to get on the scene before Roa disappeared again. She was certainly already too late to save his latest victim, considering that it took mere seconds to get infected with the curse of vampirism, but she still could and would deliver the appropriate retribution.

Despite her personal dislike of it, Yumi used the Magecraft she had inherited from Roa himself to Reinforce her hearing. With her senses strengthened beyond human limits she heard the last strangled gasp of a young woman succumbing to the bite of the Dead Apostle.

**"Let her go, you bastard!"**

She cringed. The voice of the Magus was like a shotgun firing at close range compared to the small sounds Yumi had attuned her ears to perceive. She was only a handful of seconds from the scene now, but she could distinctly recognize the spike of Prana in the air, followed immediately by the sound of something sharp cutting through the air.

An annoyed grunt escaped from what sounded like a full mouth and a moment later the sound of a body - _a corpse_ – hitting the ground reached her ears. Two pairs of running feet could be heard getting away from the scene, with just a moment's delay between each other, one in escape and the other in evident pursuit.

Yumi immediately steered on an intercepting course, vowing to return later to dispatch the unfortunate victim form the fate that had befallen her. She could not, would not, let Roa escape.

A moment later, from her advantage position from the rooftops she saw a figure disappearing in the darkness followed a dozen meters behind by the redheaded Magus who was holding a bow in his hand. She jumped down and landed a couple of meters from him, almost causing him to shoot an arrow at her.

"I'll take it from here," she told him in a matter that brooked no arguments, completely disregarding the conflict in his eyes. For a moment she thought it was a mixture of sorrow and guilt for the life neither of them had managed to save. "If you haven't done so already, go back and make sure the victim doesn't get up again. Now!"

Another moment of conflict crossed his eyes, then, "Got it! Be careful," he disengaged, going back on his tracks, leaving Roa to her.

To her.

And no else.

Focusing her rage she accelerated further, throwing herself into the darkness in hot pursuit of her long time nemesis.

* * *

><p>Shirou was conflicted. As he doubled back on the scene of the last murder, Shirou wondered if he was yet again condemning a young girl to a premature death. It had been a difficult choice to let her go after the Dead Apostle on her own; he had been willing to do so only because he knew that he was underequipped, and therefore a liability, on top of knowing all too well that he would have had to go through the Executor herself in order to continue the pursuit.<p>

He understood with a single exchange of glances that there was a personal grudge between this Dead Apostle and the emissary from the Church. With that knowledge and with the awareness that he had to attend to Yumizuka's body before _it_ got up again and made more victims he forced himself to turn around.

Now, with the adrenaline in his body dropping considerably, his concerns for the Executor were replaced with an all too familiar sense of guilt.

Another life had been lost, he thought. One he could have saved had he just been a tad more insistent, more forceful. Just one small, seemingly insignificant choice had made had become the difference between life and death.

But now there was no way to change what had been done. The only thing he could and would do was ensuring that her body wouldn't be defiled any further by the curse of undeath that would make her into a mindless, blood-seeking monster.

In a moment he was again between the two rows of buildings. There, in the shadows, Yumizuka's body lay lifelessly with her face turned away from him. Shirou stood there silently, watching for a moment, struggling to accept the weight of the reality in front of him.

Then a moan came from the still unmoving corpse, soon followed by a twitch. A hoarse sound came from her dry throat. Her arm moved, a hand found the ground in an attempt to push herself – _itself_ –up.

Shirou closed his eyes in resignation for a moment. When he opened them again there was no uncertainty to be found in them, and the bow he had been holding was gone, replaced by the length of Monohoshizao.

He stepped toward the still crouched form, sword lifted above his head to deliver a single, mercifully decapitating blow. He inched forward-

"It… it hurts."

- and stopped abruptly mid-blow.

"It… hurts." The corpse repeated. "It hurts…"

Shirou stepped back in shock, Monohoshizao shattered.

"It hurts… It hurts…. It hurts."

The Dead couldn't speak. They could only seek out blood, unaware of everything, unknowing even of their own miserable condition. The mindless thralls could not express themselves. The only undead that possessed the ability to speak were… the Dead Apostles themselves.

"Yumizuka-san?"

Her head snapped in his direction. Feral, hungry eyes locked on his, teeth bared in a silent growl. Her previously trembling body, seemingly weighted by an enormous weakness was now coiled and ready to spring.

Then just as rapidly as the first change, confusion and fear crossed Yumizuka's features and she scuttled awkwardly backward on all fours. A moment earlier she looked like a feline ready to pounce, and then she seemed to be a very scared teen with no understating of the situation.

She backed away until she was with her back pressed against the wall, her eyes never leaving Shirou's.

The situation was all too similar to their previous encounter, and yet so completely different. He was standing and she was on the ground, putting distance between them out of fear, but her fear was not directed at him as it had been during their earlier encounter…it was at herself.

She didn't know, couldn't know what had happened to her, not consciously at least; but her instinct was another matter altogether. As her eyes settled on him her new nature identified him as prey, as food, and her body reacted accordingly for the fraction of a second for her still human mind to process the wrongness of it all.

Shirou understood all of that in a single moment. In fact it was all quite clear to him, save for the impossibility of it all.

Dead Apostles didn't just "spawn" from one another. The curse was passed, yes, but the recipient was killed in the process, mind destroyed and soul trapped within the body. Only after years of sucking blood, retaining for themselves a small portion of the energy usually diverted toward their master, could a simple undead become something more, yet still bound in part to its progenitor.

Only True Ancestors, by virtue of being the originators of the curse, and Magi who turned themselves through purposeful Magecraft could create Dead Apostles without intermediate steps. Certainly, someone that had made himself into an undead could usually turn others as well through the same process, but Dead Apostle, and Magi at that, had usually no love for each other and were extremely territorial creatures.

He considered, for a moment, that the Dead Apostle could have wanted to produce an expendable decoy to throw the Executor off its trail, but a single, uninstructed fledgling vampire couldn't fool anyone; what's more, in its ignorance it would be more of a threat to itself than to others, at least in comparison to an ordinary undead.

Therefore there was a single viable explanation in Shirou's mind. Somehow, in a strange one-in-a-million chance, the Dead Apostle had tried to make a thrall out of a person with a natural potential that far exceeded its own.

But… that was far from a happy occurrence. Possessing her own free will or not, Yumizuka Satsuki had become a creature that fed on humanity, a monster, an enemy of mankind. By all accounts he should kill her now, before she could grow into her potential and become something that could be stopped only through countless sacrifices, if at all.

That was right, wasn't it? Killing monsters was a Hero's job.

"Stay back," she pleaded. Had her newfound instinct, somehow, told her of the danger she was in?

Shirou stepped forward, grim purpose reflected in his eyes.

"Stay back…" she continued to plead. "If you come any closer… something bad is going to happen."

He advanced silently, the shape of Monohoshizao ready to be pushed into existence once more.

"I don't want to hurt you," she cried desperately.

Shirou recoiled back as if struck in the face. Monohoshizao sunk in the background of his mind.

It was wrong.

It was completely and utterly wrong. Vampire or human, what had this person in front of him done to deserve death? Did she have to die for something that had been done to her?

Condemned… because of someone else's sin?

The image of Medea, unconscious under the rain, on the brink of vanishing with tears running down her cheeks flashed before his eyes.

Just… no. There was no way he could go through with that. He had sworn to become a Hero that could save everyone. Although he couldn't begin to fathom how to make things right, he knew at the very least how not to make them even more wrong.

* * *

><p>Her body was wracked by pain the likes of which she had never even thought possible, much less experienced. She remembered being assaulted, wounded, bitten, drained –<em>killed<em>. Blackness had engulfed her but the pain hadn't relented. It had increased with each passing second, until it was too strong, too intense for unconsciousness to keep a hold on her.

She woke up and pain was the last of her concerns. There was a dryness in the back of her throat; a hunger stronger than anything she ever felt before; a black, boiling need to bite into _something_ that she couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"Yumizuka-san?"

Her head snapped in the other direction, settling on a person, Emiya, who was looking at her with scared eyes.

Her body tensed at the sight of him, her hunger flared, and for a brief moment she could think nothing but burying her teeth into the soft skin of his neck to find the warm blood flowing underneath.

She recoiled. Her fear found new depths as she realized how intensely she wanted to rip his neck open and quench her thirst, satiate her hunger until there was nothing more to drink.

She backed away, pleading for him to keep his distance, to not get any closer because it took all that she had to refrain to give in to that black desire. But he ignored her silent pleas. Slowly, he made his way to her disregarding her pleas.

"Yumizuka-san," he called her from a few feet away. She forced herself not to look at him. Even at that distance she could smell him. "Yumizuka-san, can you understand me?"

Slowly she shifted her eyes onto his face. Her stomach clenched in anticipation.

"What is this?" she whispered to herself as much as to him. "What's happening to me?"

"Yumizuka-san," he said slowly, hesitating, "there's no good or simple way to put this. You have been turned into a vampire."

She almost laughed at the absurdity of that statement. Almost. The surrealism of it all was surpassed only the intense, vivid awareness on the undeniable truth of his words: her appetite, her thirst, the recent events of Misaki. The word vampire had been plastered across the newspapers in bold characters. She had found it scary in an amusing way just a few hours before

There was no amusement left now, though; just fear, pain and hunger.

"How…," she rasped, "how can I turn back to normal?" she asked in a pleading manner, seeking an exit to this nightmare. She was no stranger to tales of vampires and other bloodsuckers; there were plenty of tales in which a character had fallen victim a similar fate and returned to normality.

"There is no known cure for vampirism," he told her after a moment of hesitation, shattering the tiny hopes she harbored. "No cure has ever been sought either as far as I know. Vampires are usually to be killed on sight, no questions asked."

Her eyes flickered back to him. The gentle boy she had first met wasn't there. In his place, wearing his face, was a deadly serious young man with eyes of steel. A number of unspoken questions found answers in her mind. Why did he know of her condition, why was he out at night, why was he standing in front of there now.

"Are you going to kill me now?" she asked after a moment of silence. She didn't want to die. She didn't want any of this. She hadn't ever once wished for such a thing, and why would she? She only wanted to wake up in her bed and go to school like the normal teenager she was.

Again he visibly hesitated, measuring his words.

"I should, but I won't," he told her calmly.

"Why?" she asked, curious despite her immense relief.

"No one should pay any price for someone else's mistakes," he answered flatly, with no hint of uncertainty. His eyes darted to the side with a hint of embarrassment, then settled back on hers. "You feel the need to bite me, don't you?

She nodded, more than a little ashamed. "My body… hurts all over," she confessed.

"That's as secondary symptom of your condition," he explained. "Your body is… not alive anymore. It's decaying and it needs fresh human DNA to counter this process. Well," he sighed tiredly, running a hand through his hair, "at least you have a measure of control over your impulses, but that's not going to last. If you don't feed soon you're going to lose it completely and start feeding on just about anyone close by."

"I don't want to drink blood," she lied. She wanted to drink blood so very much. The thought of it wasn't as disgusting as it would have been a few minutes prior. She was, she realized, already becoming a monster. "But I don't want to kill anyone either."

"That's settles it, then," he nodded. "We have to get you fed."

"Where do we find- **EEP!**"

Two long katana appeared out of thin air in Emiya's hands. Faster than she could react, he sank them into the wall behind her a hair's breadth from her neck, parallel to the ground and with their sharp edges turned outward. He swiftly crossed them in front of her neck, trapping her head in position.

"E-E-Emiya-san?" she squeaked.

"Open your mouth," he told her in a tone that brooked no argument, bringing a small knife to his exposed wrist. The sharp edge found his skin and cut through effortlessly, causing blood to pour from the wound.

Satsuki's vision blurred momentarily at the sight, though she was called back to her senses a second later by the pain in her neck from the impact of the swords and the sound of her own coughing echoing in her ears. She had little time to process the cause of this sudden loss of consciousness as a hand gripped her forehead, forcing it backward. She gasped in surprise, but it lasted only a moment before her senses were swept over by the blissful taste of copper.

Emiya clenched his fist, forcing blood to pour from the self-inflicted wound. She had but a moment to contemplate the contrast between her rational distaste against the very physical craving for the same thing. Said contrast vanished when the first drop of the sweet, dark nectar met the tip of her tongue, overwhelming her with the novel, euphoric sensation spreading through her body.

Contrary to what one would expect, it didn't taste like spring water after crossing a desert on foot. Rather, it was closer to drawing your very first breath of fresh air after having lived for a century without knowing you had lungs.

She drank greedily, mouthful after mouthful, while being prevented from actually sinking her fangs into Emiya only by his iron grip on her head and the impromptu sword collar around her neck. Had she not been restrained like that, she realized with disgust a moment after she returned to her senses, she would no doubt have bitten and killed the redhead young man.

When the flood of blood stopped and full self-awareness dawned upon her, Satsuki shivered, caught between her own self-disgust and the afterglow of the most delightful experience of her young life. She almost didn't notice the two swords shattering and disappearing into thin air as she hugged her knees and rocked in place like a frightened child. She didn't even notice that her body didn't hurt at all anymore.

* * *

><p>Shirou sighed and pulled back, tired and pale-faced. He had given Yumizuka as much blood as he possibly could while remaining functional, overcharging it with Prana so as to provide further nourishment for the fledgling vampire. It had taken a lot out of him, and he was perfectly aware of the fact that the entirety of a normal person's blood wouldn't have sufficed to quench the girl's hunger.<p>

Again, he reconsidered his latest choice. Sparing Yumizuka's life was, in the best case scenario, a dangerous bet that had as a positive outcome "only" to not make things any worse than they already were. Truth be told, the existence of a vampire was a curse for someone who hadn't wanted to become one, and if things went pear-shaped and Yumizuka fell prey to her new nature, many other people would suffer a similar fate.

It was a risk. It was the biggest risk he had taken in his life so far. Even saving Medea, with all of her pent up resentment and bitterness, was not as risky. The Servant of the Spell had the means to hurt plenty of people but she needed at the very least a proper motivation. A vampire, no matter how good-natured, felt the need to feed on others by the simple virtue of existing.

It was engrained in their nature and would only worsen with the passage of time. Their bodies required progressively more blood to sustain itself and their minds were twisted and distorted by decades of feeding on living human beings and the isolation caused by their condition. For these reasons they were hunted and ruthlessly eliminated.

In this regard, Yumizuka Satsuki was a ticking time bomb; one with a countdown of several dozen years if they were lucky and careful, but a bomb nonetheless.

And yet, even knowing this, Emiya Shirou couldn't bring himself to think he had been wrong. No innocent person should pay the price for another person's actions, no matter how potentially dangerous they could be in the long term.

Ironically and unknowingly, a similar scenario with an opposite outcome had marked Emiya Kiritsugu's first steps down the accursed path of the Magus Killer. Without even realizing it, Emiya Shirou had further distanced himself from the spiraling madness that had followed his foster father throughout all of his life.

Steadying himself for a moment, and shaking his mind free of needless worries, Shirou addressed the vampire.

"Yumizuka-san, we should get moving. The other hunters won't be inclined to let you live, and the sun is going to rise soon as well."

Slowly, with tired eyes, Yumizuka turned to him. "I'm… I can't be in the sun anymore then? Will I turn to ashes if I'm caught in daylight?"

"Nothing so dramatic," he explained as he walked to help her stand back on her feet. "Exposure to sunlight is painful for and it accelerates the rate at which your body decays, but it's not outright lethal."

She nodded, standing up wearily. Shirou supported her by holding her arm, feeling the trembling and coldness of her body. Something like this shouldn't have happened to anyone, much less a young girl like her.

"Where… where am I going now? I can't let my mom and dad see me like this."

"I…," he hadn't thought about that. "For the time being let's go back to my hotel. We can come up with something once we're safe."

"They don't even know I'm gone," she said with tears streaking down her face. "I snuck out windows after dark _*hic*_ I didn't want to make them worry. Uuhhh."

Shirou had no words of comfort to offer, and so he could only watch silently as the girl cried her eyes out. He couldn't tell her that things would get better either, for they could only get worse. Her life from then on would be a struggle to find nourishment without hurting living people while dodging the hunters from the several organizations that had made hunting down her kind their purpose in life.

But… that was not something that she had to deal with right now.

"I'm sorry. We'll work something out together, but in the meantime we must get to a secure location before we get into even more trouble."

"I'm afraid it's a little too late for that, Magus."

Shirou whipped around, fast enough to see something sailing his way, fast enough to push Yumizuka out of the way, yet not fast enough to dodge or mount a defense for himself.

Even with his reflexive Reinforcement, the Black Key, the Excutor's trademark weapon, cut through his shoulder like hot steel through butter.

"Kyaaa!" Yumizuka screamed in surprise and fright as she rolled on the ground.

"Gah!" Shirou groaned, clutching his shoulder.

From atop the building overseeing the ally of justice, the Executor known as Ciel stared down at him with impassible eyes.

It never failed to amaze him how quickly things went from bad to total shitstorm whenever he tried to make things better.

Wounded, weakened and with a scared vampire girl to protect, Shirou wondered exactly what manner of higher entity he had offended in a past life to have such a lousy luck.

* * *

><p>Though her expression betrayed no emotion, Yumi was boiling with rage.<p>

While it was not exactly surprising that Roa had managed to give her the slip, considering their mutual knowledge of Magecraft, it still frustrated and annoyed her to no end. Of course, the whole point about establishing Roa's current identity was to get the drop on him instead of trying to pin him down in random locations in the city. The vampire wasn't stupid enough to engage in combat with a formidable opponent such as her when he could avoid it, especially since he obviously wasn't at the height of his power, in which case all of these efforts, both hers and Roa's, would be completely useless.

But even knowing all this didn't help ease her annoyance, especially since she hadn't even managed to get visual confirmation on his current host's appearance. Moreover he had managed to make yet another victim, a girl she knew, if barely, who had at least a connection with Roa's suspected incarnation.

Was it just a coincidence that one of _his_ classmates was Roa's latest prey, or had he lured her out at night to a specific location purposely? If that was the case, he could have done so without even using hypnosis, taking advantage of Yumizuka's feelings to have her meet him at a chosen location. It made her suspicion in _his_ regards even stronger, but in the end there was still no actual proof, making it yet again another reason to be frustrated.

At least this attempt at reestablishing his foothold on the city had failed. In her last moments his victim had managed to alert her and the Magus of his presence thus foiling his plan.

Sadly, it was too late for Yumizuka. Her fate was sealed from the moment he sank his fangs in her, contracting the plague of vampirism with a small exchange of blood. At the very least Yumi had ensured that the girl's existence would no longer be profaned by Roa's by having the Magus dispatch her body before it could get back up again.

At least, she thought he had done as instructed. Instead, she found not only that Yumizuka's body was still intact, but also that the Magus had somehow managed to make her become a full-fledged Dead Apostle and was now feeding her his own blood.

Suddenly everything gained a new, more reasonable perspective. Far from being a good-willed Magus looking out for his fellow human being, this person was just another twisted individual experimenting on the curse for his own interests.

She would see them both dead at all costs: one out of mercy, and the other out of hatred.

* * *

><p>"I admit, I am disappointed with myself," the Executor said as she dropped down from the four story building, landing gracefully on her feet. "There is a rule in the Church that says to distrust Magi on principle, but the peculiarity of this case made me lower my guard and I ignored what ulterior motives could you have in this business."<p>

Shirou clutched the blade trapped inside his flesh. The damn thing didn't want to come out.

"I think there is some kind of misunderstanding here," he told her seriously. More Black Keys appeared between her fingers, probably extracted from within a folded space created by Magecraft within her clothes.

"Please, Emiya," she answered, causing him to wince. She must have overheard Yumizuka addressing him; he'd regret that, he was sure. "I will not fall for further lies. Both the Church as well as the Clock Tower consider experimenting on Dead Apostles cause for immediate execution."

"I wasn't-"

"SILENCE!" She roared." I shall carry out the sentence personally. Be glad that I have no time to waste in turning you over to either group to torture all knowledge of forbidden practice out of your mind. But first…"

"W-what's going on? Ciel-senpai? Why are you dressed like that?"

"Tch," the Executioner scoffed at being recognized. "Don't worry, Yumizuka-san. Soon it will all be over."

Shirou took that statement as a warning and moved to the side as fast as he could, pulling the Black Key out of his body with all the strength he could muster. With a spout of blood he used the recently '_acquired'_ weapon to deflect another of similar make directed at the startled vampire.

"Yumizuka-san," he called out without turning. "Please stand up. This person is an Executor form the Church. She will stop at nothing to kill you. And you-" his eyes focused back again on the Executioner, Ciel, "I don't know what crazy idea you got in your mind, but I had no role in Yumizuka-san's circumstances."

"Do you expect me to believe that a mundane girl has become a Dead Apostle under her own power?" She shook her head angrily. "Even if it were true it makes no difference. As much as it pains me in this case, all Apostles must die. As for you, helping such a potentially powerful Dead Apostle is even worse than creating one on purpose."

"I won't let you harm her," he told her flatly.

"What you will or will not allow," she said as she raised her arm, "is irrelevant!"

Three blades flew toward him, but this time he was ready to receive them. With a single swing he swept them all down, but when his eyes returned to the Executor, she was gone.

Shirou didn't blink nor he stopped at considering his options. He let himself fall backward, barely rolling beneath a sideway blow from his left, deflected slightly by the sword in his hand, which was knocked out of his grasp by the sheer power behind the attack. He then pushed with his feet as soon as they touched the ground again, his Reinforced muscles propelling him through the air, giving him just enough time to take stock of his position, or rather just to see six other Black Keys coming toward him.

Instinct took over. His foe was faster than him by a wide margin. There was no time to think of tactics. The only thing he could do was the thing he seemed to do best. He imitated.

Six Black Keys, each a mirror of other six blades, materialized in his hands. He threw them with a _foreign_ _ease_, with movements he hadn't even seen but that he knew perfectly all the same. They all flew on exactly the same path in opposite direction, and each met its twin halfway, tip-by-tip with microscopic precision.

Six blades clattered to the ground, six disappeared into thin air.

Shirou's feet touched the ground again and skidded to a halt. For a good moment everything stood perfectly still while those present measured each other carefully.

There was a bit of luck in being recognized as a Magus, as there were just two good ways of taking down one. The first was eliminating them before they could deploy their mysteries; the second after their mysteries had been unraveled. Everything in between meant exposing oneself to a number of possible traps as numerous as the stars in the sky and while Shirou knew he was outclassed, the Executor didn't. In fact there was a tinge of surprise on her face at his continued survival as her first tactic had mostly failed. Now she was stuck in that no-man's land where she had to test the ground as not to open herself to defeat by unknown means.

In that lull, Yumizuka had stood up and run toward Shirou. With a slight widening of his eyes, Shirou Traced another Black Key to fend off the one shot at the girl's back.

"Yumizuka-san," he whispered once she was behind him. "Take the wallet in my back pocket."

"W-what do I do with it?"

"There are documents with my address in there. If I fall, go to that place and explain your circumstances to the foreign woman living there. She'll help you in my place."

"But..."

"Get ready to run as soon as I engage her. Don't look back."

"Emiya-sa-"

"GO!"

He dashed forward, six Black Key clutched between his fingers. He didn't look back, but he heard Yumizuka's footsteps getting further away at high speed.

He smiled. His odds were nearly nonexistent if he took into consideration the history that he got from the Black Keys he replicated. The person he was about to face was stronger, more experienced than him and… apparently, she couldn't die. At the present conditions there was no way for him to kill her.

And that was perhaps the only thing that worked to his advantage.

* * *

><p>The Magus charged with the Black Keys crossed before him. He advanced fast, but not fast enough to worry her. She was intrigued, though. While he was clearly inferior on the physical standpoint his skills so far were a match for hers.<p>

Too much of a perfect match.

Even with her great understanding of Magecraft she didn't quite know how such a degree of mimicry was possible and she wondered how wide a spectrum such an ability had. Could he replicate feats of Magecraft as well? Did his ability extend to all fields or just physical combat? Would he grow stronger the longer she engaged him? Could he match only his current opponent or could he learn and store abilities to use later on? If it was the latter, the level of danger he posed depended highly on his level of experience.

However that wasn't what troubled her most.

Certainly letting the fledgling vampire run was a smart move if he wanted to preserve the specimen, but unless what he told her was true, that Yumizuka had become a Dead Apostle out of her own potential, then it made little sense to risk his life over a two-bit vampire that he could probably make another of on his own.

So Yumizuka was likely a very dangerous, and very unlikely, case of a vampire that hadn't gone through the ghoul stage. It was very impressive and extremely worrying. Something like that shouldn't be allowed to roam free, lest the tragedies Ciel had witnessed with her own eyes be repeated.

But there was the Magus, Emiya, to deal with first.

She realized, as she traded shallow blows with him, that he wasn't what she expected him to be. It was well known that Magi placed their research over their lives, but that just made them risk takers, not suicidal fools. Another Magus would not have let a specimen flee while he risked his life. She could have understood if he tried to run with the Dead Apostle, but staying back to buy time for her – _it _– to escape?

It made no sense at all.

"What is the meaning of this, Emiya?" she asked between blows. "Why are you protecting a Dead Apostle?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked back. "She hasn't done anything to warrant death."

"She's a Dead Apostle!" she replied forcefully, putting more force behind her attacks. "A monster that feeds on humanity."

"Human or vampire I will not let an innocent die before me," he said with a strange resolution. "There's no guarantee that she will become someone who kills in order to live."

"Are you willing to risk the lives of human beings on a wild bet like that?"

He ducked under her swords, countering with a vertical slash. She dodged by stepping backward.

"Of course I am," he replied as he pressed on. "No one should pay the price of someone else's sins. You of all people should understand this… _Elesia_."

For the tiniest of moments, her brain screeched to a halt and she was left gaping. Then everything was wiped out. Her guilt, her doubts and even her curiosity to his knowledge of her true name were swallowed by sheer, unadulterated rage.

"Don't! You! Dare! Call! Me! By! That! Name!"

She punctuated each word with a blow carrying such brute strength that she would have been surprised herself, if she had the clarity to acknowledge such things. The blades in Emiya's hands shattered one by one, and when the last was gone she followed through with a kick to his stomach so vicious that he was sent flying back several dozen meters.

* * *

><p>"Guah!" Shirou would have thrown up at the blow that would have ruptured his stomach if it hadn't been Reinforced, but the sheer power of it sent him flying like a twig all the same.<p>

He thought that by appealing to her own personal tragedy, she would see things his way or at least be confused enough for him to incapacitate her and then make his escape. That didn't go as planned by a long shot, and instead of slowing her down he managed to make her stop toying with him altogether.

_'At this rate… I'm going to lose.'_

He hadn't bought nearly enough time for Yumizuka to get to a safe distance, and running away was not an option against an opponent that outmatched him by such a magnitude. All he could do was hold his ground at the best of his ability.

No, that alone would not suffice anymore, but he had at least one more ace in the hole. Something he didn't think he'd have the opportunity or the need to use before the Holy Grail War.

_'Medea,'_ he though regaining his balance midair as his body got closer to the ground again. _'Thank you.'_

He directed a portion of the Prana he still had left to the bracelet on his arm and felt it warm up in response.

**_"Conceptual Armament: Deploy!"_**

* * *

><p>Unknown to Emiya Shirou, Ciel was more than a just little upset. Her mind was shaken, both by the memories associated with her birth name, Elesia, as well as the sheer feeling of <em>violation<em> caused by hearing it spoken by a person who had no right to such knowledge.

Rage overcame her and she miscalculated her strength. A wide gap was formed between them and the Magus capitalized on that opportunity and made his move.

**_"Conceptual Armament: Deploy!"_**

The unnatural echo of those words revealed their nature as an Aria, but Ciel, not having followed through with her offence, was too late to prevent them from taking effect.

From his wrist, right beneath his clothes, bright lines of light shot out, twisting at odd angles and intersecting with each other as they climbed up his arm. The areas enclosed by the crossed lines darkened as they tightened around his body, assuming consistence, structure and presence.

When his feet touched the ground again those lines had reached all the way to the other side of his body and descended to his waist. As they continued to his lower body, outlining the form of two coattails, the hand from which they originated went for his face running over his eyes and through his hair, pulling them backward. By the time his hand returned to his side the lines had completely wrapped around his body and his face now donned a mask that hid the area around his eyes.

Emiya Shirou stood back on his feet again, draped in cloth as black as the night itself, lined with crimson red inserts to outline the detail of his body, with bow and quiver strapped securely to his back.

**_"Twisted Embrace: Deployment complete."_**

* * *

><p>As the leftover power of the exchange washed away, Shirou went once more over the specification of the Mystic Code that covered his body. <em>'Twisted Embrace',<em> as Medea called it, was the sublimation of his efforts and her otherworldly knowledge of Magecraft.

Created from the Materials he had gathered himself, soaked in a large amount of his blood for days and weaved together by Medea's slender hand, Twisted Embrace was a Mystic Code that existed because of and for Emiya Shirou alone, and while others could use it if they got their hands on it, it would never work as well for them as it did for him.

The Conceptual Armament offered no boost to his offensive capabilities whatsoever, but on the other hand it offered an increase in defense the likes of which he never thought possible. It was understandable, as it was meant to protect his frail human frame in a war between supernatural entities, each of which could be considered as a natural disaster in humanoid form. Of course Medea would go out of her way to give even the slighter edge to his survival chances.

Quite frankly he would have preferred something he could use to protect somebody else, but he figured that using his own body as someone else's shield was just as good. Maybe even better, really, provided that it didn't shatter at the first contact with the enemy.

He still couldn't win, but if he played his cards right he wouldn't lose either.

* * *

><p>Ciel blinked through her anger at the sight of Emiya's new outfit. She wondered what was so special about it before really noticing the bow and arrow strapped to his back. Had she found the true identity of Fuyuki City's infamous Archer?<p>

Ciel brought her rage under control, if only barely, just in time for Emiya _– Archer –_ to Project a long sword, a nodachi right into his hands. She thought he would resort to long ranged attacks as his alias suggested, but he must have understood by then that she was no slouch in the department. After all she carried the operative name of Yumi _(Bow)_.

The length of Archer's sword was an advantage in melee combat and the blade itself had an aura of danger that she couldn't miss or ignore. Despite her cursed immortality, she could still be harmed just as any other human being, so while she couldn't quite die, neither could she rush ahead blindly. This was an opponent she had to take down with all of her ability.

* * *

><p>The comforting presence of Monohoshizao in his hands gave Shirou a minor boost in confidence. His skills lacked severely compared to his opponents but the same could not be said for the skill of Sasaki Kojirou recorded within the blade.<p>

True, Shirou's replication of his abilities wasn't perfect and Kojirou had not faced opponents with supernatural abilities, but Shirou's own experience would make up for that.

Still, he had a feeling that even the combined experience of the deceased swordsman and himself would not suffice against the Executioner. Her immortality aside, he knew that her range of empowering Mysteries far outclassed his own and even with Kojirou's superlative skills he could only close the gap so much.

Then again he didn't have many options. He had to buy as much time as he possibly could, so he might as well get on the offensive, for a change. Lifting the sword to eye level he charged ahead.

Monohoshizao swung, again and again. Flawlessly, with clear purpose it cut through the air like it had done many times in the past. He caught a glimpse of surprise in his opponent's eyes as she fended off every single strike. The Executor was not caught unprepared, but she certainly didn't expect him to have such a high level of proficiency with a sword.

For few shorts moments he had the upper hand in their exchange, but it took only a moment for her to adjust and bring the fight to even grounds again. Which really wasn't even ground at all, as Monohoshizao was an inferior blade in structure compared to the Black Keys used by the Executioners. Soon enough it would shatter under the strain of their confrontation and when that happened Ciel would not give him time to Project another.

With that realization, inspiration struck him, and Shirou had to refrain from smirking.

* * *

><p>The clashing of steel against steel marked the exchange of blows at superhuman speed for the next few seconds, each strike chipping away at Monohoshizao's existence. Three more blows, Ciel knew from the vibrations that came from the nodachi and her own combat experience, and the steel would shatter.<p>

Emiya inched backward as if preparing for a retreat.

Two blows.

Ciel followed suit, not relenting in her offense, anticipating the moment when the sword gave in.

One blow. Monohoshizao shattered.

With his hands now free, Emiya punched at her, but his fist went past her face as she dodged point blank. At the same time she slashed at him with a set of three Black Keys. The hallowed blades found his arm in his path and her eyes widened when they didn't break through. They slid off the material harmlessly, causing runes to glow lightly in the area around the point where the swords had connected.

Any further reaction was denied when Shirou's punch curved behind her shoulders and struck the back of her head in a technique she had never seen before.

Her skull fractured but she didn't pass out. She wished she had, though.

She knew he was good with ranged weapons. She was surprised that he was excellent with a sword. She certainly did not expect him to surpass her at hand-to-hand.

Her blades were knocked out of her hands and the defense she brought up empty handed served no purpose. His blows connected viciously no matter what she did. Dodging was no good, and parrying did even less. He struck from odd angles, shattering bones with each strike.

It was like fighting against a damn snake. It would have been funny if it weren't so infuriating. She thought she was prepared to fight off snakes. It turned out she was wrong.

The thought filled her with rage. Boiling black. All consuming. All encompassing.

She wanted blood almost as badly as back in _those days_.

Gaia's curse kicked in almost in response to her wish and her wounds disappeared in a moment.

Like a rabid dog whose chain had been suddenly cut off, she lashed out, reaching out to depths of Roa's Magecraft she had willed herself to bury out of spite.

Saying that she struck back would be an understatement.

She ignored the blows still raining on her body, she ignored all the bones being rebroken, she altogether shrugged off her own throat being ripped out by Emiya when he realized that his superficial attacks were no longer slowly her down.

She struck and struck and struck again. Every blow connected, though she didn't know if they had any effect on her opponent since he stood his ground and retaliated in kind.

Soon, though, it became apparent that the advantage was hers. Even before their fight, Emiya was weakened severely and while her attacks seemed ineffective, so did his. Gaia's curse kicked in three more times, restoring her body, before she finally managed to overwhelm Emiya, slamming him against a wall on the other side of the street with a powerful punch into his abdomen.

The wall cracked and almost gave in when Emiya's body smashed against it. The Magus fumbled to regain his balance but slid onto the ground, seemingly unfazed despite the blow. Ciel had no intention of letting him get back on his feet.

With a flick of her wrist, a Black Key appeared in her hand at the same time as she covered the distance between them with a single jump. She straddled his body with her own, pinning both his arms under her knees, forcing him down on the ground.

She lifted the Black Key above her head, blade pointed down to pierce through her opponent's body with all of her strength, protective gear and all. She knew by the flicker of fear in his eyes that his Mysteries would not be enough to protect him from this kind of attack.

Without hesitation she swung the blade down.

* * *

><p>Through the tension of the fight Shirou had felt his energies, both physical and spiritual, deplete with each passing second. From the very beginning he knew he could not win, not really, against an opponent he had no means to either restrain or injure for more than a few seconds.<p>

Ultimately it came down to how long he could keep her occupied. It was a respectable amount of time, and with Medea's _'Twisted Embrace'_ that time had gone up significantly, all the more so with the use of _'The Snake'_. It was the first time he had been able to use his teacher's technique without holding back…then again, it was the first time he had fought an opponent that could not die.

Funny, he pondered while on the ground with death staring him right in the face, how the first time would also be the last.

He didn't regret his choices. Even with his life about to end, he didn't think he had made the wrong call in siding with Yumizuka. But still, there was a bitter taste his mouth. He wouldn't be able to keep his promise after all.

_'Medea…. I'm sorry.'_

The blade flashed down.

**_"NO!"_**

* * *

><p><em>She ran faster than she ever had in her entire life, faster than she thought possible.<em>

_It took her a moment to realize._

_She had never been particularly good at physical activities, scoring average grades in PE. Running at this speed for so long should have left her breathless._

_She stopped, leaning against a street lamp._

_For a moment she chalked up her sudden physical prowess to adrenaline, but when she thought about it she felt no strain at all. Her breathing was even and while her heart was beating at an accelerated rate it was out of fear rather than effort._

_Her body had changed, she realized. She was a vampire now, she told herself._

_She drew her tongue over her canines, finding them unexpectedly unchanged. Would they grow out when needed, in the movies, or would she have to feed by mauling the throat of her would-be victims with blunt teeth?_

_She shuddered, images of herself chewing out a faceless person's neck flashing through her mind, repulsing her only because of the feeling of expectation they carried._

_She chortled, though it almost came out as a sob. It was comical, really, because it was all backwards._

_She was running away, escaping from the thing in the night that sought to kill her, but it was all wrong. Instead of the damsel being chased, she was the monster that should be lurking in the shadows. Even if she got away from this impending danger, where could she go where the monster couldn't reach her?_

_Nowhere. There was nowhere for her to escape the fate that had befallen her. No safe haven, no happy ending, no salvation, no cure. She could run all she wanted and it would still take her nowhere at all._

_At the same time, a person she had met only briefly, a person who had shown her compassion instead of the disgust and disdain she probably deserved, remained back to fight for her sake._

_A human fighting to his death so that the monster could live._

_It was wrong._

_Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong-wrong-wrong-wrongwrongwrongwrong._

**_WRONG!_**

_The groaning of crushed metal and the flickering of the artificial light snapped her out of her loop. The hand on which she was leaning had clenched around the lamp, squeezing and twisting the steel like it was barely tougher than some clay._

_Thoroughly deformed, the lamp fell on the concrete and shattered on impact, clothing in shadows the area where Satsuki stood._

Monster_, her mind accused, a word that required no further explanations._

_Her humanity was lost, left behind in that alley where she had been killed._

'Then go get it back.'

_The ridiculous thought almost made her laugh out loud. What use would it be to return there now? What could she possibly achieve by going back?_

_Even if by some strange twist of luck, something she felt she sorely lacked as of late, she managed not to make herself a burden and invalidate all of Emiya's efforts to allow her to escape what would that mean for her?_

_At the end of the day, she would still be a vampire. A blood sucking monster._

_But what is the true measure of a monster? Who decides what is and is not a monster? If she were truly one, would Emiya have put his life on the line for her? By his own admission, he should have killed her on the spot, but instead he claimed that he wouldn't have her pay for being a victim. She hadn't hurt anyone yet; she hadn't killed anyone yet._

_Did he mean that even though she was a blood-sucking vampire she had yet to become a monster? That he believed that it was up to her to make the difference? That it would be her choice to decide her true nature?_

_The thought was almost enough to give her relief, but it also brought forth a very undeniable truth: she was already standing at that crossroad._

_And so it was with surprisingly little thought for one such as her, even though it scared her to her core, even though she wanted nothing but to return home and pretend it was all a dream, that Yumizuka Satsuki made the most important choice of two lives._

* * *

><p><strong><em>"NO!"<em>**

One shout tore through the night and Ciel's body was yanked away from Emiya's.

A street lamp, wrenched straight from the asphalt by the looks of it, hit Ciel with the speed of a running car, sending her tumbling away from her quarry.

She rolled on the ground, immediately regained her bearings, standing back on her feet with her guard raised. Her thought process reached a screeching halt for the second time at the nature of the interloper, a sentiment shared by Emiya who stared, as dumbfounded as she was, at the newcomer.

Yumizuka Satsuki stood in the middle of the road, trembling arms still stretched, shock and fear etched upon her features and tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. There was no doubt that just being on the scene was terrifying her beyond words.

Yet she had returned of her own volition.

"Yu…," Emiya choked as he stood back on his feet, "Yumizuka-san? What are you doing here?"

"I-I-I..," she stuttered switching glances between the redhead Magus and Ciel. "If I left the person who saved me to die while I just ran away, then I… I would really be a monster."

The vampire's words smacked Ciel in the face far less gently than a speeding freight train would have

There she was, a vampire, a creature that by all means should be hunted to death solely because of her nature, risking the cursed life she clung to. And for what? For a principle: for a concept of humanity that transcended mere words and could express itself through only actions.

A vampire, a monster that should feed on humanity hadn't run from death, but returned to save one of those people that should be no more than convenient food bags and would-be thralls.

Bitterness seemed to overflow from her heart. Bitterness and anger.

How could she _dare_ to so blatantly cling to her humanity after becoming a Dead Apostle? What right did she have to be clean and free of sin while the same opportunity hadn't been granted to her?

_'You of all people should understand this… Elesia.'_

And she did understand. She understood all too well, damn him, but still… why hadn't be there someone to save her as well when she needed it most? Why hadn't there been someone, anyone, to grant her an opportunity to hold onto her humanity when Roa took over her body?

She blinked with sudden realization. _'Ah.'_

Jealousy? Is that what it was? Her anger and bitterness at Emiya were because he hadn't been there for her like he was doing for Yumizuka?

As if any of it had been his fault to begin with, really…but even in light of this newfound enlightenment the situation hadn't changed though her perspective on everything had shifted greatly.

A man that was willing to fight to the death for a vampire, and a vampire who held onto her humanity by putting her life on the line for a human. What right did she have to pass judgment on either of them?

Before a vampire that that held onto her humanity, would she be willing to become a monster, again, for the sake of duty, or more basely, her own resentment?

What would she choose between becoming a human or monster?

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p><strong> - PotK Wiki –<strong>  
>(Also known as Infodump)<p>

**Twisted Embrace:  
><strong>The Mystic Code developed by Medea is a Conceptual Armament. Besides being reinforced via extensive Magecraft during its creation, the clothing controls the Concept of "Surface" essentially redistributing the strength at the point of contact to all the surface of the Mystic Code. For that reason in order to break through the material it's necessary to put force superior to the sum of all threads that make the Mystic Code. This is made more difficult by its function to discharge most of the received force on the ground, provided that both of Shirou's feet are firmly planted on the ground.

The downside of this armament is that a blow strong enough to destroy it and kill Shirou (such as a blow from Berserker's sword-axe) would be distributed to all of the body making it lethal even if it just his arm. It's a very doubled edged weapon and it's not intended to be used in combat against Servants but only to grant protection in the general vicinity of their clashing with each other.

The mask, the bow and the quiver have different functions and control different Concepts.

The mask: "Identity." The bearer cannot be recognized unless the beholder is already aware of how is hiding behind the mask. A witness would not be able to describe the details of his appearance.

The quiver "Space". It's quite simply a folded space that can contain hundred of arrows. It also provides an area hidden from prying eyes where Shirou can Project projectiles he doesn't have in stock either because he didn't charge them or because he run out.

The bow: "Intent". Simply put it acts as a catalyst for the user intent. It strengthens Shirou already extraordinary aim and also offers a boost to his focus when using Magecraft. Because she lacked suitable materials, Medea wasn't able to complete this code therefore it has no active enhancements.

**Black Keys:**  
>Many would argue that the Black Keys, being used as thrown weapon most of the time, are disposable and are therefore lost after use. Hence , there shouldn't be any History for Shirou to trace in Ciel's Black Keys.<br>I strongly disagree with this seeing how the Church, much like the Clock Tower, puts a lot of stock on secrecy. The area of an operation is swept thoroughly and all proofs are erased. As such there is no reason for the Black Keys not to be recovered. Seeing how members of the Burial Agency such as Ciel operates mostly alone there's little chance for them to be mixed up with someone else's.

**Ciel:  
><strong>For those who aren't familiar with Tsukihime (heretics the lot of you) Ciel was the previous incarnation of Roa, a vampire that pursued immortality by transferring his soul/memories to specifically selected hosts. Under Roa's possession she slaughtered her family and turned the inhabitants of her village into her slaves. She was killed by Arcueid but having an incredible potential for Magecraft her body was resurrected with her original personality while Roa moved to the next host (the current one).

However, since she's technically still Roa in the eyes of Gaia she's caught in a paradox for which she cannot die while Roa still lives. Every time she's wounded or killed, Gaia reverse her time and restores her to the starting condition. For this reason she doesn't age as well and she's much older (how much it was never specified) that what she appears to be.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author Notes:<strong>

I can't believe it's been over three months since the last update. Sure a lot of stuff happened to me in the meantime and this chapter had gone more revisions than any other thus far. Then again the plot is getting complicated, more characters are making their appearances and their actions are having longer lasting repercussion. It's a difficult phase overall.

I can't make promise about update rates at this point. Every time I do it takes more than the previous time to complete a chapter. The only thing I can guarantee is that I'm going to try my best to deliver high quality chapters as soon as possible.

Thank you for your understanding and continued support.

Until the next time.


	27. Darker after Dawn

**Chapter 26 – Darker after Dawn**  
>(Published: 12.22.13 - Beta: RavingScholar)<p>

* * *

><p>The fight's extreme tension was the only reason Emiya Shirou hadn't sighed loudly in frustration yet.<p>

As he caught his breath, picking himself up from the floor, he mused if it was a similar near-constant streak of bad luck and backfiring plans that drove Kiritsugu down the path of the Magus Killer. Honestly, could something work even remotely as intended for once?

Apparently not.

He had wasted almost all of his energy to allow Yumizuka to escape, and what did she do? She came back to help him.

Of all the things she could have done to confirm her own sense of humanity, did she have to jeopardize her life for him? Without a doubt, she was squandering all of his effort up to that point. Did she have no sense at all?

Honestly, it wasn't like he didn't understand the driving point of her choice. He of all people understood the importance and the need of wanting to save someone, but still…

He shouldn't have been the person she risked her life for.

And yet there was no use complaining about that now. Not only was he fairly sure that she wouldn't listen to him at this point, there was also the complication that he had pretty much exhausted all of his resources.

Ciel was an experienced fighter and wouldn't fall for the same tricks twice. To begin with, The Snake was a technique that relied in killing or at least disabling an opponent before they could see through its nature and develop an appropriate counter. Not that just anyone would be able to mount a defense after seeing it once or twice, but Ciel's skill level certainly meant that she had already seen through it. Including the fact that that all external damage inflicted upon her healed nearly instantaneously, the result was a very grim one.

He needed something different: something new and strong enough to deal enough damage to open a window of opportunity for them to escape. Something to fight an opponent stronger than him by several orders of magnitude. Something…

_'Oh.'_

He licked his lips. The actual feasibility was unknown, but it wasn't like things could get any worse than being killed either way it went. He needed more training, but it looked like real life battle was to be his master, after all.

"Yumizuka-san," he said with dawning realization. "Stand behind me and don't get in my way."

The vampire nodded and stood behind him while Ciel seemed to find her resolve again after a moment of apparent hesitation. She was conflicted, that much was obvious, but in the end it seemed that she had decided to perform her duties even if she found them detestable.

Now the situation was clear and a plan was made. He still needed something else, an appropriate weapon to go with it.

Monohoshizao was out of the question. The elegant blade, for all the otherworldly skill that came with it, was unsuited for prolonged combat against swords of superior making such as the Black Keys. Fundamentally it was a sword meant to cut, not to clash.

But he didn't have anything better he could use. Even though he had seen other swords in his life they were absolutely not better than Sasaki's nodachi. The alternative was using the Black Keys himself; however, his replicas suffered a natural degradation due to being products of Magecraft that made them inherently inferior to the originals wielded by his opponent.

He needed something that was clearly superior but… no… there was something he could work with, but had never tried it before. How much Prana did he have left? How many swords could he project before he ran out completely?

Not more than two, he determined. Then he would be running on fumes, and each following feat of Magecraft would reflect badly directly on his Circuits and body. Though his own wellbeing was far from his foremost concern, it was also true that he couldn't afford to suffer a progressive decrease in performance if he wanted to preserve Yumizuka's life. He had to secure victory before he started relying on self-destructive behavior.

The plan was made, now came the more difficult part: putting it into practice.

Without losing sight of Ciel, Shirou's focus turned inward. The last of his Prana went to his Circuits once more. The image he needed came forth naturally, as easily as breathing, but when he pushed the structures from his mind to the realm of Gaia a sharp lance of pain throbbed through his head.

Pain far worse than those days when he first started learning Magecraft, when he used to turn his nerves into makeshift Circuits, shot up his spine. His mind almost went blank, static buzzing over his vision like an old television with a bad signal. Even his hearing seemed to fizzle momentarily, though he was almost sure he heard the sound of grinding steel somewhere in the distance.

He didn't allow it to stop or even slow him down. He pushed and pushed until the he could feel in his hands the full weight of the weapons he had chosen.

Black as the darkest night and white as pristine snow, the curved forms of Kanshou and Bakuya shined ominously in his hands.

Ciel eyed the new weapons with suspicion, no doubt wary of his current preference of a dual wielding style as opposed to his previous use of a single, double-handed blade. All those who were experienced in fighting against bladed weapons knew that dual-wielding styles were much more insidious than single-handed ones because they could more easily juggle offense and defense.

Ciel obviously preferred to arm both hands simultaneously as well, if their earlier clash was any indication. Of course the Executor didn't know that Shirou's skill with the Married Blades was nowhere close to his proficiency with Monohoshizao. For one thing, the accumulated experience in each blade combined was not on par with Kojirou Sasaki's favored weapon, and it suffered further degradation because each blade had its own distinct user. The only saving grace was that they were meant to be used together; however, actually employing them efficiently at the same time was going to be the real challenge.

Not that he had much of a choice in that regard. Thankfully he didn't have the burden of being on the offensive.

He stepped forward, putting a few steps between the person he had to protect and reducing the distance to the deadliest opponent of his young life. Then, much to Ciel's befuddlement, he crossed his arms over his chest in the typical starting guard of the Snake.

The Executor's eyes narrowed. No doubt she sensed the wrongness of that stance. It was a position meant for unarmed combat, and even if the style could be adapted somehow to allow the use of blades it still left glaring holes in his defense that she could spot easily.

Exactly as he wanted.

This was Emiya Shirou's ultimate reckless bet.

* * *

><p><em>Wrong<em>.

Her instincts told her as much as she took in Emiya's stance. There were so many openings she could exploit where mere minutes before she had been forced to rely on the superiority of her weapons to get the best of him.

Something was clearly amiss, but she couldn't fathom what exactly. In the end, she reasoned, it didn't really even matter. She had already made her decision. Now all she had to see whether his resolve equaled hers or not. Without wasting words she charged ahead.

For a truly experienced fighter, thought is an unnecessary complication. Skill is not engraved into the conscious mind but rather into the instinctual part of the brain and into the muscles, honed to perfection by years of conflicts.

For this reason, when Ciel struck, her offense automatically targeted the openings she was able to detect. If she had stopped considering where to strike at each instance, she would have lost valuable time that could give any worthwhile opponent an opportunity to retaliate.

Due to the automatic nature of the assault, it wasn't until the third strike that her conscious brain realized that, despite her pinpoint attacks at his openings, none of her blows had managed to connect with Emiya's body.

She blinked. Her higher brain functions took hold of the battle's flow once more. It took less than a tenth of second for the shift to happen; a barely perceivable fraction of time. In that minuscule frame she found herself staring at the business end of a black falchion, coming at high speed toward her face.

_'What?'_

She rolled with the blow, barely avoiding her left eye being gouged out horribly, but the blade still managed to carve deeply into her cheek, spraying blood on her face. Still, by the time she completed her spin the wound was gone, and her instincts took over once more.

She resumed her offence, unleashing an onslaught of blows against her opponent. Steel clashed against steel in a furious dance of sparks. This time she was much smoother in taking stock of the course of the battle. She noticed with dismay that things weren't quite adding up.

Still, even though she was targeting his openings she had yet to land a significant blow. Most of her attacks were being deflected and those that managed to slip barely past his guard were just grazes that his armament brushed off without damage.

That didn't seem possible. She was moving faster than he was. By all rights he shouldn't have been able to see his attacks, much less muster a decent defense. And yet, every time she struck, his falchions were there to stop her Black Keys.

If he was slower than her, she realized, it meant that he was moving earlier than she was. He was predicting the direction of her attacks with a high degree of precision, opting to block the most damaging blows and letting his armor take care of the relatively minor blows.

Ridiculous. He willingly left himself open to her attacks for the sake of keeping up with her? The term brave did not fit this kind of fighting style. Suicidal would be far more appropriate.

Even Ciel, immortal as she was, would think twice before actively using such a foolish approach to a battle. Despite the conscious knowledge of her inability to die, her mind still possessed its survival instincts…but Emiya didn't seem to be concerned about his own life. Thinking about it, through this whole ordeal he never once seemed to have his own wellbeing in mind…at all.

This kind of mindset wasn't normal, nor was it something that could be achieved on the spur of the moment. Whatever his true motives actually were, this man's resolve wasn't a decision born from a mere whim. He truly and thoroughly would follow his belief to the very end.

Caught up in her thoughts, Ciel failed to notice that while neither of them had yet managed to inflict any actual damage on the other, their clashing had started to take a toll on their respective weapons. Unlike their previous encounter, however, it was the Black Keys that started to show signs of giving in.

Of course, Ciel was far from letting herself be caught unprepared by this.

* * *

><p>Relentlessly, Ciel hammered her swords against the Married Blades. The sheer power behind each blow caused sparks to light up the night, and the grind of steel broke the otherwise eerie silence.<p>

Keeping up with the Executor was an arduous task, but surprisingly less than what Shirou had expected. The Fake Opening style he came up with not too many days before was in its early stage. Even if he tempered his inexperience at his own fighting technique with the accumulated knowledge recorded within Kanshou and Bakuya as well as The Snake, the end result was supposed to be far shoddier than how it actually came out.

Of course there were awkward and useless movements: sudden jerking and twisting of the muscle that he could have avoided, among others. And yet, in spite of that he was keeping up with his opponent. It took him little to figure out why he was faring better with a patchwork style he had come up on the spot rather than the technique he had polished for well over an year. It could be summed up with one word, actually.

Incarnation.

It was that simple. His identical Origin and Element of Sword, which granted him his talent in Grasping the truest essence of each blade he gazed upon, was the greatest of boons he could have asked for when fighting an enemy who relied heavily on blades.

There was no feint he couldn't see through, no misdirection he would fall for. With startling realization he knew as of that moment that his highly limited, but highly specialized skill-set gave him the upper hand when it came to sword fights.

It was, admittedly in most cases, an unfair advantage but against an opponent that could not die he supposed it barely evened the odds.

After a good minute during which they fought to a standstill, the steel of the Black Keys started to give in under the superior craftsmanship of Kanshou and Bakuya. When they finally shattered Ciel wasted no time and leapt away from Shirou's reach. What she failed to understand, ignorant of the Married Blades' true nature, was that such a move was exactly what Shirou had been awaiting all along.

While Ciel used the distance to flick another set of Keys into her hands Shirou reared his right arm backward above his head and then, taking a sharp step forward so violently that it cracked the asphalt beneath his foot, he threw the falchion at the Executor.

The black blade spun impossibly fast through the air, howling menacingly toward the girl in priestly robes. Ciel was momentarily startled by the speed, dodging the blade by mere millimeters. Her eyes however didn't remain focused on the blade for long. They zeroed on Shirou now left with a single blade in his hands.

Admittedly, he could have projected anther sword with a minimum strain, but what he was purposely trying to lull Ciel in a false sense of security. He needed her to believe she had the upper hand. He needed her to believe that he was almost done for. He needed her not to turn her attention behind her.

Ciel charged again. Whether she took the bait and thought he couldn't project any more blades or not was irrelevant at this point. She was trying to finish the match before that theory could be tested. Keeping her at bay with one only sword for long was unthinkable, but he only had to manage for a few seconds.

_Four._

A blade cut deeply into his cheek, making a cut into his ear as well.

_Three._

Twisted Embrace redirected the power of a slash to his leg on the ground. The ground cracked under his feet. Shirou didn't want to think about what would have been of his legs without it.

_Two._

He barely deflected a blow that would have cut a much broader smile into his face, but it cost him his balance and he was left open for a finishing strike from his left side. He caught the victorious glimmer in her eyes at the last moment.

_One._

**_ZZZ-SHRK!_**

A sudden whizzing sound and the wet, splattering noise of flesh ripping open echoed through the streets.

"Grk?" Ciel froze mid-swing as her chest burst open, coughing blood in surprise. She looked dumbfounded at the black falchion protruding from her body, a flicker of understanding flashing on her face before she looked back at Shirou, just in time to see him swing Bakuya at her neck.

Ciel's head flew high in the air, blood spurting from her beheaded body like a crimson fountain. When her cranium hit the ground, bouncing in a morbid fashion, her body seemed to catch up with its condition and slumped down as well.

Shirou wasted no time and turned toward Yumizuka, who appeared to be stuck between shock and captivation by the sudden, gory show.

"Let's run," he said curtly, grabbing her wrist rather forcefully.

"B-but she's…"

"She's not dead and she won't remain like that for long, she-"

The slight widening of the vampire's eyes was the only warning he received. He turned, or at least he tried to, only to see an outstretched hand reaching for his face. He was pushed to the side and off his feet, forcefully shoved face first into a brick wall. If not for his Reinforcement his head would have been splattered.

"Agh!" reddish lights flickered in his vision while he was being held forcefully against the wall. He caught a glimpse of Ciel's eyes staring coldly him at him before she turned to Yumizuka when she jumped at her with bared teeth.

"No, Shirou! Let him g-" **_CRACK!_** "KYA!"

A vicious backhand caught the vampire in the face, sending her tumbling on the asphalt like a rag doll. That kind of blow would have turned a normal human's head into a pulp but fortunately the body of a vampire was sturdier than any normal human's.

Too fast. She had regenerated way faster than he thought possible. It should have been at least a couple of minutes for her to be restored with a blade stuck in her chest. Even Gaia would have needed at least to destroy the…

_'Accumulation of Anomaly? What a stupid amateurish mistake,'_ he thought with dawning realization as he struggled uselessly to break free. He had hoped that putting something in the way of her regeneration would have slowed down the processes. It had the opposite effect instead.

At times like this Shirou cursed his lack of proper education and talent in the field. A proper Magus wouldn't have forgotten that Gaia's rejections of Magecrafts and paradoxes is proportional to the strength of the violation caused within its sphere of influence.

Shoving a blade created by Magecraft, which is something that Gaia rejects with a considerate amount of power, into a person whose death is a paradox, generated an anomaly that was much greater than the sum of its parts.

Gaia reacted violently and Kanshou was crushed nearly instantaneously. Similarly, Ciel's body was restored in a couple of seconds, much faster than it would have been otherwise. Damn it, what a blunder.

"Y-Yumi-zuka… r-un!" he grunted out with no little amount of difficulty. Instead of trying to get free he twisted his body, wrapping his legs around her torso and grabbing the arm she held him with using both hands. "I'll… hold… her!"

But Yumizuka wasn't in any condition to move, her eyes glazed and unfocused. She was probably suffering from a heavy concussion and it would take her a few moments to get back on her feet.

In response though, Ciel pushed his head against the wall with renewed force. If he had cared in the slightest he could have heard his skull cracking under the pressure.

"You should be more concerned with yourself, Magus," the Executor hissed. "I'll crush your head into a pulp before I do anything else."

"I… don't … care…," he croaked out. Ciel's eyes narrowed.

"Do you not value your life at all?"

"That's… what I… said… isn't it?"

"You're an idiot."

"Tell… me something… I DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW!"

Forcefully producing Prana, straining his Circuits to the point of scalding his flesh from within, he reinforced his legs as much as he could and pulled at her torso. If he could gain even just a couple of seconds for Yumizuka to escape, then…

Still holding half of his face in a steel-like grip, Ciel pulled him away from the wall. Shirou braced in preparation of having his skull splattered on the hard surface but the impact never came. Instead he was flung away like a rag, causing him to lose his own hold on the girl's body. He failed to regain his balance and skidded on his back until he stopped against Yumizuka, who had barely started to regain her bearings to stand on her feet.

He immediately jumped back to his feet, guard at the ready, but the Executor kept her distance, standing in the shadows a few feet away, with her back mostly turned to them as if she had lost all interest in the confrontation. Her expression was unreadable between the odd angle and the scarce light.

"What?" he asked, more at himself than at Ciel, feeling confused by the sudden lack of enmity.

"Emiya, I don't quite understand what's going on in that twisted head of yours, but do you truly intend to watch after that person, no matter what?"

"I thought I'd made that clear by now," he replied evenly.

"If you keep shouldering other people's burdens, you're going to get crushed one day."

"Even if that's the case," he replied without losing a beat, trying to figure out her intentions, "if I can get even one person to smile, it'd be worth it."

The Executor just stared at him, as if trying to measure the true strength of his convictions. She sighed and her body relaxed if only slightly, but her eyes immediately snapped on them, steely as ever before.

"I've grown tired of dealing with the two of you. Disappear from my sight," she ordered, glaring at them. "If either of you ever give me reason to come looking for you, I won't be inclined to let you go a second time."

"Uh…. Thanks?" they both replied, not entirely able to believe this sudden turn of events.

Ciel turned away and disappeared in the darkness of the alley, not bothering with any acknowledgement. She was already gone from their sight when her parting words reached them.

"Emiya Shirou, the only thing waiting at the end of your path is Hell."

A moment of incredulity went by, during which both the vampire and the Magus stared blankly ahead. Then reality sunk in and they both fell on their knees, exhausted and elated.

* * *

><p>Ciel soared over the rooftops, landing silently above the sleeping city.<p>

Was it really all right to let them go like this? Her duty was to exterminate them, one for what had been done to her and the other for not allowing her to do exactly that. And yet she couldn't bring herself to do it.

It was stupid and she knew it. Whatever the circumstances, a Dead Apostle was a threat to mankind, sooner or later. It was as inevitable as the sun rising from the east and setting in the west.

It was inevitable, but still she couldn't bring herself to go through with it. Emiya's desperate struggle and well as Yumizuka hopeless clinging to her humanity had gotten at her. Like the Magus had said, she of all people could understand that plight, that wish to stay human in spite of having already lost all rights to that claim.

In different circumstances, she wouldn't have let them go. Quite honestly, maintaining a human conscience as a Dead Apostle was a curse of its own. In the end, their saving grace had been Emiya's resolve. If he lived up to his word then there was still hope for Yumizuka. A fleeting, certainly temporary hope, but a hope nonetheless.

To her knowledge all paths ahead for them could only get grimmer and darker, but then again wasn't this case the first of its kind? If humans were allowed to become monsters, could the opposite hold true as well? Even if her superiors would chew her head out for this transgression, she wanted to find out.

Because if even a Dead Apostle could hold onto her humanity, then she too could do the same.

Because if it was actually possible to fight back against a curse that eats away at you from within, then she too could…

No, that was getting ahead of herself. This way she only risked seeing her hopes burn and turn to ashes. She would watch and judge when the time came. For now she would have to return to her patrol, though she was sure that with the sun almost about to dawn there wasn't going to be much more excitement.

She was proven wrong when the stench of blood and subdued screaming reached her again, coming from a nearby hotel. In addition, two ominous presences too powerful to ignore lingered at the edge of her perception.

One of those auras was unmistakable to the former host of Roa.

"Arcueid," she hissed through clenched teeth, leaping again through the air and toward her next target. Perhaps there was still a task or two to accomplish before the sun rose.

* * *

><p>"What…. What just happened?" the teen vampire asked with a trembling voice.<p>

"I'm not really sure but… I guess we got through to her," Shirou replied, breathing heavily.

They sat there for a while, tired and confused. Yumizuka was the first to stand up, being uninjured and having taken little part in the battle. Shirou, on the other hand was having a much harder time. His shoulder was wounded and still bleeding, but his blood loss was much more severe than with his donation to Yumizuka, not to mention he was also still suffering from the concussion Ciel had caused him.

He was, simply put, on the verge of passing out. Yet he couldn't afford to rest. The sun was about to rise and soon people would start moving again. He had to get himself and Yumizuka out of sight before that happened, but at this point he couldn't go back to his room at the hotel.

Her clothes, particularly her skirt and black pantyhose, were dirty and torn in places. Showing up anywhere with her in that state would raise some unpleasant questions. His bleeding would cause the authorities to demand answers to said questions.

He wasn't in any shape to deal with any of that.

Still, this wasn't Fuyuki and he had no hideout to go to. As much as he disliked it, he had to ask for help, but he was no way looking forward to that, considering how their last meeting went.

Resigning himself to do what needed, Shirou sighed. With a barely audible ping, Twisted Embrace shimmered, sliding off him and back into its container on his wrist leaving him in his civilian clothes. Ruined and stained with blood as they were, they were still less conspicuous that his other getup.

He took out his phone from a pocket and dialed the number, while Yumizuka helped him back on his feet.

Considering the hour, it was very surprising that someone picked up immediately.

_"Tohno Mansion,"_ the voice said into the phone, sounding somewhat panicked.

"Uh, this is Emiya. Is that you, Kohaku-san?"

_"… Oh. Yes. Emiya-san? Is something the matter? Why are you calling at this hour?"_

"I'm sorry to bother but there's been a… situation. I'm wounded and I need assistance. I can't ask anyone else without having to answer unpleasant questions."

_"I don't think I can… Ah. Akiha-sama?"_

Shirou heard sounds that he attributed to the receiver being handed over.

_"Emiya-san. What happened?"_ the voice of the current head of the Tohno family asked.

"Akiha-san, sorry to bother but I ran into trouble. It's a bit of a long story to explain on the phone, but I'm sure you'd prefer to know about this. As I recall, your family is acting as de facto guardian of this area, am I right?"

_"… That would be correct,"_ she said evenly. _"I take it this trouble you speak of is not of the mundane sort."_

"There's a vampire in the city," he told her bluntly, glancing at Yumizuka who was watching him with questioning eyes, not hearing the other half of the conversation. "Two of them."

_"…Two vampires?... I see. Emiya-san, please come over immediately. I will listen to your story while we treat your wounds."_

"Thank you but I… have another person with me," he said, feeling the awkwardness building up.

_"Who is it?"_

"One of those vampires I mentioned."

_"…"_

"…"

_"This is going to be one of those days, isn't it?"_

"I'm afraid it will be, yes," Shirou replied resignedly.

_"Very well. Supposing you're willing to trust this vampire in your company, I'll allow it shelter as well. Make haste, Emiya-san."_

"Thank you. I'll be there as soon as possible," her said, cutting the conversation.

"Is everything alright?" Yumizuka asked.

"For the time being," he said. "I managed to secure a safe place for the day." He made to walk but stumbled and fell forward. Yumizuka caught him before he hit the ground.

"Shirou? Shirou are you alright?" she asked with panic in her voice.

"I… I'll be fine," he said as he tried to stand back on his feet. "I'm sorry. Would you mind lending me a shoulder? I don't think I can walk on my own right now."

"Of course," the vampire replied, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders. He was just tall enough to make it not particularly awkward to walk. "It's the least I can do."

"Thank you. We have to move fast now. It's almost dawn and I don't know how strongly the sunlight is going to affect you."

"Where are we going?"

"Uphill," he pointed with his chin. "To the Tohno Estate."

Shirou was too tired to notice the sudden stiffening in Yumizuka's shoulders. The duo simply walked in silence, moving as fast as they possibly could.

* * *

><p>Tohno, he said.<p>

Could it be just a coincidence?

She didn't know, but it seemed unlikely. She heard Emiya call the person on the phone "guardian of the land" and he wasn't too shy to mention he was taking a vampire with him.

Maybe the rumors weren't unfounded after all. Perhaps the Tohno were some sort of protectors that fought vampires? People like Shirou?

"Shirou. Ah, Emiya-ku- SAN. "

"Shirou is fine," the redhead snorted. "What is it?"

"Who are you really? And Ciel-senpai too. What is… all this?"

"The Moonlit World," Shirou answered glancing at the sky, "that's what my father called it sometimes when he was particularly poetic."

"Moonlit World?"

"It's a nickname encompassing all those phenomenon that are usually hidden or kept hidden from the eyes of normal people," Shirou said, scratching his cheek. "Things like vampires, ghosts, exorcists and mages, but also human beings with particular powers or abilities."

"Oh," the teen said without real inflection. "Ciel-senpai was one of those exorcists, then?"

"Hm," Shirou nodded. "The right term is Executor; those who carry out God's will. They are the armed hand of the Holy Church, hunting down heretics and unnatural beings."

"Like me," she said, head drooping.

"Yeah. They do make exceptions from time to time if it suits their bigger goals, but as a rule they 'cleanse' without asking too many questions. I know for a fact that they employ a few vampires in their ranks."

"Oh. Are you one of these people too?"

"No," he shook his head weakly. "Technically I'm a Magus, a wizard if you prefer, though the definition is a bit stringent in my case."

"You are… that Archer, right?"

"Ah," he said, somehow finding enough blood to muster a light blush, "Yeah."

"This is all… so overwhelming. What will become of me now? What about my family?" she asked worriedly.

"I can't tell you that everything is going to turn out fine," Shirou began, trying to muster a smile. "But I'm going to help you as much as I can. It's a small consolation, I know, but I won't leave you alone in this."

"… Okay. I'm sorry if I'm being such a burden but.."

"There's nothing you have to apologize for. You are a victim and helping people is what I do. Regarding your parents, you don't have to worry. That person, Ciel, she'll probably take care of it. No, not like that," he said hurriedly, hearing her startled gasp. "She must have at least some degree of hypnotic abilities, that much I'm sure of. Standard procedure is to make family of the victims either believe their missing relatives died in an accident or that they have moved somewhere else, depending on the situation. You're alive, sort of, so I think she'd go for the latter. I'll make sure to check on them later anyway."

It was a small reassurance to Satsuki, but so long as her parents weren't worried or harmed she could be patient for a while.

"I see," she finally conceded. "What about these people we're going to?"

"The Tohno? Well… they are a bit complicated. They are human mostly, with some demonic ancestry, though I ignore how much of that blood still runs in their veins."

"Isn't that bad?" She asked worriedly.

"It could be, depending on the situation, but I don't think there's much to worry about. They live normally among normal people, after all. They do keep themselves a bit isolated from the rest of society, but I think half of that is due to their enormous wealth rather than their ancestry."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess. One of… one of them is my classmate. I guess that explains it."

"Explain what."

"Tohno-kun always gave me a strange impression, like there was something that made him different from most people, more… dangerous? But not in a bad way. He's always kind and polite but he felt like…"

"Like what?"

"Like a drawn knife left around. Like you'd get yourself cut if you got carelessly too close, " she concluded, surprised at her own sudden clarity. She always had a hard time telling what was so different about him. Was it because she was now part of that 'Moonlit World' too?

"I'm not really sure what to make of that," Shirou admitted. "But you never had problems with him, have you?"

"N-no," she squeaked. Besides having difficulties making him notice her and telling him her feelings, none at all. "We never interacted much, anyway."

"I see. Does he live here? I mean, I was there just yesterday and I didn't meet him, and I know that a large number of people have left the mansion after the elder Tohno's… death."

Satsuki noticed the pause and careful choice of words when addressing Tohno Makihisa's recent passing. Was there some secret behind that as well? She chose not to push the subject and answered his question.

"Actually, I think he just moved back in from another relative's place. I know it because yesterday we walked part of the way back home together for the first time."

"Uh," he shrugged. "I guess I must have missed him then."

Further discussions were suspended as they stood in front of the gates, where the two maids were waiting for them. It was Satsuki's first time seeing real-life maids, and she was surprised that neither of them, the younger one especially, looked surprised or terribly perturbed by Shirou's evidently wounded state. They did look warily at them, though. No, not them…just her.

"Welcome back, Emiya-san" the older greeted. "We shall see to your wounds immediately. And this is?"

"I'm Yumizuka Satsuki," the girl bowed after Shirou removed his arm from her shoulder. "Thanks for having me."

"You're quite welcome, though, forgive me for saying this, I've been made aware of your condition. I trust that it won't be a cause for concern in this house."

"I will be on my best behavior," she promised with a quivering voice. "I'm sorry, but I'm new to this vampire thing. I don't really know what to expect, even from myself."

"New…?"

"I'll explain everything inside," Shirou intervened. "Please, Kohaku-san. I'll take responsibility for everything."

"If you say so, Emiya-san," the maid allowed. "Please, follow me this way."

Walking past the gate, Satsuki shot a glance at the other maid, who remained at the entrance as if waiting for somebody who still had yet to arrive. Perhaps…

* * *

><p>At night the Tohno Estate was even more eerie than during the day, Shirou noticed. How anyone would live there willingly he couldn't understand, but then again he hadn't grown up there either.<p>

Kohaku led them through the hall and to a small side door, taking them to a small room adjacent to a well-furnished kitchen. The head of the household, Akiha Tohno, arrived just a moment later. She was dressed just as she had been the day before, so Shirou assumed it was her school uniform. She didn't appear to be affected by the early, or was it late, hour.

"Tohno-san," he addressed her respectfully, "I thank you for assistance."

"Emiya-san," the girl acknowledged, "that's the least I can do. It would be simply irresponsible if I ignored your request for help since this situation happened on my territory. Kohaku-san, please treat his wounds."

"Of course, Akiha-sama," the cheerful maid replied. "Emiya-san, please remove you clothing and sit here," she said waving at a stool.

"Er… Okay," Shirou said, feeling slightly embarrassed. This was of course nothing short of a medical procedure, but still he had to undress before three young women. With a few awkward movements he removed his jacket and shirt, baring his torso. He then sat on the stool, pointedly avoiding all stares.

"Oh my," Kohaku said, "that's a very nasty wound. These scars on you back and stomach look relatively recent as well."

"It's nothing to be worried about," he replied evenly. "They have been treated properly."

"If you are sure. I'll clean and bandage only your shoulder, then," she nodded. "Please hold still."

Shirou didn't flinch while the maid washed off the hole and bandaged his upper arm and shoulder. It was a flawless job and he was impressed by her proficiency. She had to have some experience with treating wounds.

"There, all done," Kohaku chirped, putting away her tools. "You should be fine now, if you don't push it."

"Thank you," he bowed as he stood up. "I'm in your debt."

"Think nothing of it," she said amusedly, patting his unwounded shoulder. "Though, I suggest you get dressed quickly now."

"Eh?" Shirou blinked. Looking around he paled even further. Tohno-san had her arms crossed over her chest, pointedly looking elsewhere but with a faint blush on her cheeks. Yumizuka had her face hidden behind her hands, though there was evidently enough space between her fingers to look through, making the gesture an exercise in futility.

Shirou coughed and put his shirt back on.

* * *

><p>"I see," Akiha said after Shirou explained the events that transpired earlier. "It is certainly quite a problem. Are you sure that this person from the Church will be able to solve the issue?"<p>

"I can't think of anyone more suited than her," he nodded. "In fact I think she is the only one who can solve the situation permanently without being compromised."

"Is there nothing else that can be done to speed things up?"

"Well," Emiya sighed as her run a hand through his hair, "killing his thralls and cutting his source of nourishment is the right way to go about it. Other than that, the only thing left to do is find his lair, but that too is being handled. Honestly there isn't much else I or anyone else could do to help."

"Hm," she nodded. Though her appearance was calm, inwardly she was barely controlling her panic. There was a vampire in town; a monster that feasted on humans, and her beloved brother was out there somewhere. She knew he had to be fine, wherever he was. Connected as they were, she would have noticed if something permanent had happened to him. The fact that her condition hadn't changed meant that he was likely fine.

The sun had already risen, so according to Emiya the vampire had retreated to whatever hole he was using to hide. She trusted his judgment on the matter, as she had no actual experience with vampires.

Well, if her condition, or rather the treatment she had for it ever came to light one might have been inclined to call her a vampire, but it wasn't nearly the same thing. On the other hand, her other guest was another matter altogether.

"Yumizuka-san," she called. "My apologies. Though we consider ourselves to be the guardians of this land, the truth is that there isn't much we can do in cases like this. It is probably of no comfort to you, but please allow us to make amends by offering you a place to stay for the time being."

"Ah. Uhm. Are you sure it won't be a problem? I'm… a vampire too now."

"Not at all. Though Emiya-san here is honest to the point of appearing a tad slow," she said, ignoring Shirou's spluttering, "I had the opportunity to evaluate that he has a good head on his shoulders. If he doesn't consider you to be a threat, then he's likely correct in his assumption. Of course," he glared at him, "as your guardian he will be held responsible for the behavior of both of you."

"I'll try my best not to be a burden to anyone," Yumizuka replied, bowing in gratitude. "Thank you very much."

"It's fine, really. Now it'd be best if the both of you get some rest, that is if Emiya-san he's really sure he shouldn't have to see a doctor."

"I'll be fine," he waved off her concerns, "I heal faster than normal people. I just need to… lay down for a while." He yawned. "Make that a long while."

"Very well," Akiha nodded. "Kohaku will show you to an unused room in the servants' quarters. I have to ask you not to leave them during the day, if you can, and not to leave the wing at all. Not everyone in this house is privy to our… circumstances, and I would prefer that it remain that way."

"Is this about Tohno Shiki-kun?"

Akiha's head snapped to the fledgling vampire fast enough to give her whiplash. "You know my brother?"

"Ah, uhm, we're classmates, actually," the other girl said, almost shrinking into herself at Akiha's reaction.

"I see," Akiha replied as she narrowed her eyes at her. What was this girl's relationship with nii-san? "Yes, my brother has lived away from the main family for years, and he has no knowledge of things such as this. I would rather keep him away from it all, if possible."

"I understand perfectly," Emiya answered. "We will keep to our rooms as much as possible."

"You have my thanks," she nodded, relenting her glare. "Kohaku or Hisui will bring your meals to your rooms when it's time. Assuming that Yumizuka-san can eat normal food."

"Ah," the vampire stuttered. "I don't know?"

All eyes shifted to Emiya, who scratched his cheek sheepishly. "Uh, as far as I know there's no reason you couldn't, but you'll probably get little nourishment from it, unless it's raw meat. I suggest you keep eating normally all the same. In fact it would be better if you did as many normal things as you possibly can. A good part of being a vampire is developing a non-human mindset. The longer you hold on the things that makes you human, the harder it will be for you to fall prey to your new instincts."

"Oh," Yumizuka said, apparently pleased with this revelation. "I will."

"Well, then, off to bed, both of you," Kohaku clapped her hands, as if to catch everyone's attention. Akiha watched them leave, ushered through a secondary door, but not before Yumizuka sent a last thankful bow in her direction. Only when she was left alone did the girl allow herself to sigh.

Vampires, Magi and Executors. As if she didn't have to worry about.

_'Stupid nii-san,_' she grumbled in her mind. He would get the earful of a lifetime when he returned. No way she would let him get away with it.

With that decision made she went back to her room. It was far too late to get any sleep, so she might as well get started on her daily routine. At least it would help her take her mind off things for a while.

* * *

><p>Unable to take a shower with a hole in his shoulder, Shirou cleaned his body with a wet towel and some soap. By the time he was finished, the sun well above the horizon. With some effort he closed the blinds to cut off the light, and then proceeded to fall on his bed with all the grace of a crumbling brick wall.<p>

He was tired, disappointed, sore, disappointed, hurt and ultimately disappointed.

What had he been doing until now? For close to ten years he had pushed himself to his limits every single day and he still was little more than an ant compared to some of the entities that roamed the world.

While it was true that his efforts had gotten him past Ciel, changing her decision to execute Yumizuka, the truth was that in the end it had been her choice and not his abilities. Adding to that point the fact that he wasn't anywhere near capable of providing any help in the hunt for the Dead Apostle, the result was a very unsatisfied teenage Magus.

Not good enough. He was nowhere good enough. But that didn't mean he would give up.

With that resolve he closed his eyes to sleep. He was certainly tired enough not to have trouble sleeping for at least twelve hours. He probably needed it as well.

That is, of course, when someone chose to knock at his door.

Groaning he pulled himself up to a sitting position. "Yes?"

"Em- Shirou," the feeble voice of Yumizuka called from behind the door. "Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure."

The door opened and she walked in. The vampire had changed into a simple pajama courtesy of their host. It was the same model as the one he was given, a simple button up shirt with a pair of pants with a reticular pattern. It was apparently the same size as the one he had, as she had to fold both the sleeves and the hem of the pants. Her hair was still partly damp from the shower she had to have taken and while she looked better than she did earlier, she still wore a haunted expression.

"Is something the matter, Yumizuka-san?"

"I'm sorry to bother you but I… I'm scared. Can I… can I sleep here with you?"

"That would be…," inappropriate, he was about to say. An unmarried couple sleeping in the same room was something that his upbringing had a hard time accepting, but the pleading look in her eyes killed any and every retort he might have had.

He wasn't able to reject people in need of help, moreso when said people happened to be girls that looked like puppies abandoned under the rain, looking for shelter. As he was already naturally inclined to provide help, if one added the natural instinct of protection that almost every male harbors toward frail looking girls he was basically fucked from the get-go.

"Of course," he finally said with a strained smile, repressing a groan of frustration at his own mental weakness.

Yumizuka fidgeted, clearly embarrassed by the situation. She really had to be troubled for her to even think of doing something like sharing a bed with a man of her age.

It was to be expected, though. She had been forcefully thrust into a world she hadn't known existed, in which she didn't truly know anyone, least of all her own self. In such difficult times, who would want to be left alone?

Shirou scooted a little more to the side, toward the edge of the bed, leaving more space for her to sit. Slowly, as if advancing toward a lion's den she reached the mattress and sat on the opposite side. Shirou didn't think that her reticence was due to her thinking he'd take advantage of her, but rather it was a struggle against ingrained social customs much like his own.

"I'm sorry to be bothering you so much," she said apologetically. "It's just…"

"I understand," he interrupted. "I won't pretend to know what it feels like, but I can imagine. Being in a strange place with people you don't really know while suffering from a condition you don't understand. Anyone would be upset. If there's anything I can do to make you feel better, don't be afraid to ask."

"Thank you," she said in a barely audible whisper. "Hey, Shirou?"

"Hm?" the exhausted teen muttered, lying back down with eyelids weighted by sleep.

"I've been wanting to ask, why have you been helping me so much?" she asked. "We were complete strangers just three hours ago. Even now, I don't really know anything about you."

"A long time ago… I made a promise…"

"What sort of promise? ... Shirou?"

But the redhead was in no longer in any condition to answer. He had finally fallen asleep and was snoring lightly, mouth slightly ajar. For a good minute Satsuki stared at his unconscious form, unable to understand her own feelings.

Everything was far too confusing, more than what she could process on her own in a relatively short time.

She stood on the edge on an abyss of unfathomable depths, at the bottom of which waited a terrible monster who wore her own face. Freefall was only a hair's breadth away and yet she was safely rooted on the spot, held in place by nothing else but the trust this person had put in her.

Yes, in the swirling maelstrom that had engulfed her, threatening to drown her in the raging waters, she had only one thing she could safely hold onto: the young man sleeping soundly at her side. Knowing that, she finally flipped her legs over onto the mattress and curled up into a ball on her half of the bed. Then, with the courage known only to cornered rabbits, she reached out and grasped his hand with hers.

She fell asleep soon after, in a slumber surprisingly devoid of dreams. It would be a long while before either of them would awake.

They slept peacefully, ignoring the extensive of nightmares that roamed the city of Misaki. They couldn't imagine that even if the sun had risen, the darkness had not relented at all.

* * *

><p><em>Drip. Drip. Drip.<em>

_The girl's eyes glazed over, while the blood escaped her body, drop after drop._

_Doing things like this was a bit of a pain, the person mused in the darkness, but on the other hand it was also an excellent precaution. With a murderer who left his victims bereft of blood already on the loose, no one would think much of another's dead body and certainly they wouldn't imagine another culprit. The girl was, after all, chosen completely at random much like the serial killer was thought to be doing._

_It was a crime hidden in the shadows of another crime. Now that he had what he needed, the only thing left was to dispose of the corpse. It was a bit of a distasteful thing to do, and his conscience would likely suffer for the rest of his days, but sacrifices had to be made._

_He was so close to the truth now, he couldn't afford to let something as paltry his own morals get in the way of the discovery of a lifetime. Just a few more days and he would be done. The ancient mysteries would be unveiled and his name would be carved into stone as the man who revealed the truth to the world at large._

_The ambition of a lifetime, fulfilled._

_Yes, he could definitely live with the weight of his crimes if he could achieve that. He just had to bear with it a little more._

_Just a little bit more._

* * *

><p>-xXx-<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Well, here we are folks. This is my Christmas gift for you. Many thanks to RavingScholar who has delivered again punctual and flawless editing.<p>

This is it for now. I wish you all very Happy Holidays.


	28. That Which Bleeds (I)

**Chapter 27 – That Which Bleeds (I)  
>(Published 12.22.14 – Beta Ravingscholar)<strong>

* * *

><p>Plates fell on the floor and crashed, sending shards flying all over the room. Chopsticks fell and clattered as two women froze simultaneously, eyes locked in the same direction. The television was transmitting the morning news.<p>

"…"

The voice of the announcer was barely recognized background noise in Medea's ears. After the name of Shirou's hotel in Misaki had been mentioned as the place of a mass disappearance, worry drowned out everything else.

Names of missing people – presumed to be dead – ran across the screen, in alphabetical order.

Emiya Shirou.

His name flashed across the screen with countless other.

No, there had to be a mistake, she told herself. It just wasn't possible that her Master was dead. Certainly she would have noticed if the contract had been severed.

Or would she?

Because of her connection to the leyline nexus, her manifestation did not rely on a Master like normal Servants. Without a steady flow of Prana they only had a mind link. As such, it wasn't impossible that, with enough distance between them, she wouldn't be able to feel the death of her Master.

No.

That was unthinkable. Not only because she refused to acknowledge the possibility of losing him even in a thousand years, but because it was utterly ridiculous that the Caster class would not notice a such a shift in her bonds and bindings.

That's what she told herself, but the feeling of dread did not subside.

"M-Megissa," Taiga stuttered with panic in her eyes.

She did not answer, but closed her eyes, hands gripping the shirt over her chest. Her consciousness shot out through the part of her mind where the connection with her Master should have been.

Prana, much like all forms of energy, was subject to distance. The further away two points were, the more energy was lost in the process of traveling from one to the other.

Sweat formed on her forehead as she pushed herself further and further through empty darkness.

_'Where are you?'_

There was no answer, and she pushed herself even further.

_'Where are you, Shirou?'_

The darkness did not subside in the slightest, and hopelessness began crawling within her. Then, far in the distance, a small light shined, kind and warm.

_'Shirou!'_

Too far. She couldn't reach, but the faint sound of a steady heartbeat echoed in her ears.

_'Shirou!'_

Her energy began to dwindle and her consciousness was flung back toward her body.

_'Shirou!'_

"Shirou!" she shouted, eyes snapping open.

"Megissa-chan," Taiga shook her frantically, trying to get a response of any kind from her entranced self. "Megissa-chan, what's going on?"

"He's alive," she breathed out. "I could not make contact, but I'm sure he's alive and well. I perceived no distress in his spirit, therefore he should be somewhere safe."

"Oh," Taiga slumped on the floor, knees betraying her in her elation, "thank goodness. W-what could have happened? Why hasn't he called yet?"

"I don't know. Have you tried calling him?"

"Just now," she nodded, holding her cell phone. "But I can't reach his phone either."

"That… IDIOT," the witch shouted angrily, "that stupid selfless idiot. I knew he should have stayed out of it. He shouldn't have," - gone where I can't reach him- " stuck his nose in other people's problems. That stupid, stupid, stupid Shirou!"

As if on cue, the phone rang. Both women looked at each other and then simultaneously ran toward the hallway.

"Shirou!" Medea shouted in the receiver as soon as she wrestled it away from Taiga.

"No, it's Dojima," the voice on the other end of the line answered with a cringe. "I just heard the news. Is the kid really…?"

"Oh, it's you," Medea answered, disappointment and annoyance dripping in her voice. "No, I couldn't get in touch, but he's certainly alive."

"Then how do you know he's… forget it, it's probably more weird shit. Are you positive he's fine?"

"Right now, I could only confirm that he's alive. "

"Hm, I have a few friends in the police department in Misaki. If you're sure the kid's fine, then I'll come up with a story to keep his name out of their investigation. It wouldn't be the first time a hotel gets the guest list wrong after all."

"Why would you do that?" the witch asked, surprised with the detective's initiative.

"This mess is probably that vampire's doing, isn't it? If that's the case then it's better for the police to stay out of Shirou's way for everyone's sake. Anyway, if you can get in contact with him anytime soon tell him to give me a call so that we corroborate our stories, especially if he's going to do anything that might attract my colleagues' attention even more."

"I will do that," Medea confirmed. "I guess you aren't as useless as I thought you'd be."

"Hey, you bit-"

Medea hung up the receiver and turned to Taiga who was looking at her expectantly.

"It was one of Shirou's collaborators; a policeman," she explained. "He said that he'll clear Shirou's position with the authorities. All we have to do now is find where that idiot has gone."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Never underestimate the resources of a witch, Taiga," she replied confidently. 'And heavens help you, Shirou, if you don't have an excellent reason for making me worry like this,' she added inwardly as she strode toward the workshop with clear purpose.

* * *

><p><strong>Later<strong>

"Is this… really going to work?" she asked incredulously, staring and poking at the item laid upon the table before her. When Shirou told her that magic was real she expected something of the sort, of course, but to see in real life a honest-to-god crystal ball still felt a bit surreal.

"Yes." Medea replied dutifully. "Even if the distance is enormous, with a proper scrying crystal I can exploit our connection and find Shirou."

"Ha, ha, ha," Taiga chuckled awkwardly at the witch nonplussed explanation. "That 's not what I meant but nevermind."

"Well now," Medea stretched her hands to hover above the crystal. "This should take but a mom-"

She froze.

"W-what? What is it?"

"A Servant is approaching," she narrowed her eyes. Like clockwork, the doorbell rang.

"Eeeh? You mean another person like you? But I thought the war wasn't supposed to start yet."

"It isn't," Medea replied standing on her feet. "This is probably that Tohsaka girl with Saber."

"Oh, that's right, Shirou said she's a Magus too. Wait, does it mean she's coming here to fight?"

"No, they are our allies for the time being. But why would they… Of course, they must have seen the news as well."

"So… they are worried for Shirou?"

"Well, I wouldn't say worried about him: more like concerned with how it will affect our plans for the war. Anyway, it's bad timing. Taiga, you should probably hide somewhere for the… Taiga?"

Heedless of her warning, mostly because she hadn't heard them, Taiga left the living room to greet Shirou's friends. Magus or not, if they were Shirou's friends she would welcome them with open arms. The tactical concerns of being openly associated with a Master did not even register in her brain.

"Taiga, wait," Medea called after her, but too late to prevent anything. Taiga opened the main gate as cheerfully as she would have done in any other circumstance.

"Ohayo, Tohsaka-san and… Dulac-san? Wait, does that mean that you are Saber?"

For everyone except Taiga, who was oblivious to the weight of her own words, the world seemed to freeze in a mixture of shock and incredulity. A few feet behind her, a moment later, Medea gave a long, weary sigh.

Like brother, like sister. Fools the both of them.

* * *

><p>Tohsaka Rin was never a woman to be taken aback easily. Her motto was to not let unexpected events slow her down. Nonetheless, her schoolteacher's casual admittance of her knowledge about Servants and all that it entailed actually caused her to gape slightly.<p>

Being a stranger to Rin's normal dynamics, Saber was completely unfazed by this turn of events. She merely took Taiga's presence at another Master's house as a perfectly acceptable reason for her to know. She regarded her with an examining gaze for a moment and dismissed her as a threat as quickly, focusing instead on the Servant a few steps away.

Of course, Rin knew it wasn't that simple. The thought alone was mind-boggling, but then again she had made the same mistake with Emiya himself.

"Sensei are you… one of us?" she asked, deadly serious. If she had missed not one, but two Magi in her own territory she couldn't forgive her own incompetence.

"Eh? What do you mean, Tohsaka? Ooh, you mean a wizard? Nope! I'm just your average everyday teacher. Well, maybe more awesome than average, but…"

While Fujimura-sensei ranted, Rin regained her bearings, though she was now fuming inside. What was Emiya thinking, letting a normal person know of Magecraft? Being his guardian didn't justify the blatant breach of secrecy, in her opinion. Families of Magi even kept the children not chosen to inherit the craft in the dark for their entire lives, or gave them up to adoption.

Yes, it pissed her off a great deal that Emiya was being so open and straightforward with the people around him while she couldn't even talk with…

Nevermind. She would not entertain such thoughts. She was the only daughter of Tohsaka Tokiomi and that was it. Her reason for being upset was solely Emiya's blatant disrespect of the basic rules of Magi society. That, and nothing more.

She would rectify that mistake herself immediately, if it wouldn't compromise any future cooperation with Caster's Master. Speaking of which…

"Caster, I heard the news," she said flatly, ignoring Fujimura's presence altogether. "Since I see that you are both fairly calm, I take it that he's in good condition."

"Master is alive, yes, but I couldn't get in touch with him. As a matter of fact, we were about to scry for him."

"Over that distance? Well, I suppose that with a working contract it shouldn't be too difficult for a Mage of your caliber. Very well," she said stepping past the entrance with Saber in civil attire following dutifully, "let's see what Emiya has been up to."

"I don't recall asking you to participate."

"Do you have any objection? For the sake of future cooperation it's better if I know what kind of situation Emiya is capable of dealing with. Or is there something about this affair that I should not know about?"

For a moment, tension built up rapidly in the enclosed space. Even Saber shifted in preparation of possible hostilities. Fortunately, Fujimura intervened with her usual oblivious behavior.

"Now, now, Megissa. There's no reason to be so defensive. Tohsaka is simply worried about her friend."

"Right," both female Magi said in a deadpan. Well, it's not like it wasn't true. Rin was actually worried; worried that her idiot ally got himself killed before the war even started for real, that is.

"Fine," the purple haired witch huffed, "come on in."

Rin followed, flanked by Saber and preceded by Fujimura. The teenage Magus was a bit taken aback by the interaction between the two women of the Emiya household. What sort of relationship did a mundane woman have with a Heroic Spirit of the Age of Gods? How did they even hold a conversation?

She was too used to keeping the mundane and the spiritual parts of her life separated, where the former was a nuisance she had to deal with and the latter the real focus of her life. As such, she had a hard time seeing them standing together, interacting with such ease. It gave her an odd sense of alienation she didn't like one bit. Still, at another Magus' place it wasn't like she would complain aloud.

Saber was likely to be at the receiving end of a very long rant once they returned home. Thankfully the measure of her patience far outstripped her Master's.

For the time being though, Rin put aside her complaints and followed the residents to the living room, where a scrying crystal was set on a purple cushion in the middle of the table. Wordlessly, they took a seat in chairs at opposite sides of the table: Caster and Fujimura on one side, Rin and Saber on the other.

"Well, then," Caster announced. "Let's begin."

She placed both hands over the sphere and closed her eyes momentarily. Slowly, the scrying crystal began glowing from within. A fog-like gas swirled inside, unrecognizable glimpses flashed briefly, too fast to be identified. Then, the fog began to clear and slowly the face of Emiya, pale-faced and eyes closed filled the transparent globe.

"Shirou!" Fujimura shouted both excitedly and worriedly. "Shirou! Can you hear me?"

"He can't," both Rin and Caster answered, sending a brief glare at each other. The latter continued, "Scrying is not a means of communication, but a form of divination. He can't know we are watching him nor can he hear anything we say."

"Oh. But where is he now? I can't see anything but his face. Can't you zoom out?"

She could, so to speak, _zoom out_: although that way of putting it irked Rin. Hearing the Workings of a Mystery being addressed like the functions of a modern-day camera was insulting, to say the least. Caster slightly increased the amount of Prana she was putting into the crystal, and using the target of her initial divination as a relay point she could scry its surroundings. The fog covered the image again momentarily and then cleared out to show a broader scene.

Silence fell upon the room.

Not one, not two, but three eyebrows twitched simultaneously in annoyance.

Emiya was clearly sleeping on a double bed in some old-fashioned western style mansion, judging from the furniture and the bed's headboard. He was resting over the covers with his arms spread to the sides and his feet sticking out of the bed. This would have been a fairly normal picture if not for the fact that beside him, almost snuggled into his side, was a brown haired girl sleeping just as soundly.

"Well, well, well, Emiya-kun," Rin said with a strained smile that wouldn't have fooled anyone on their worst day, "it looks like we were worrying over nothing, after all."

"Master," Saber whispered in her ear, grabbing a hold of Rin's hand. "We must retreat immediately."

"Uh? Saber, what's the problem?" Rin asked. The seriousness in Saber's tone managed to actually turn her attention away from Emiya's current situation. Saber glanced toward Caster and Rin followed her gaze. Immediately she inched back.

Caster was still seated, much like before, but her eyes were now hidden behind her bangs. What was more, the ominous aura that was flowing out of her body in visible, dark tendrils was anything but a good omen. Even Fujimura was backing away from the legendary witch.

"Of all things…" they heard the purple headed Magus whisper. "I was worried for him while he was with some other woman…."

The scrying crystal began to crack under the strain of excessive Prana being poured into it. "Shirou you… you…"

Rin pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed loudly. She couldn't believe the absurdity of what she was about to do.

"Caster," she said calmly. "It seems that there is a bit of a misunderstanding here."

Caster's eyes flickered up to hers, anger swirling inside them. "What do you mean?" she hissed.

"Take a closer look," Rin pointed at the crystal nonchalantly. "There is more to this scene than a compromising position. Look at Emiya's neck. You can clearly see a bandage sticking out from his collar. I assume that he didn't have it before he left, so it's likely because of a recent wound. Did he mention something the last time you heard from him?"

"No, but what does…"

"That means it's something he got recently, likely last night. His pale complexion is also consistent with prolonged blood-loss. Now look at their clothing. They are both wearing the same type of nightwear, but in Emiya's case it's a bit too short for him, while for this other person it's big enough that she had to roll both the sleeves and the legs of her pants, so it's definitely not hers either. Assuming that Emiya doesn't always carry around two sets of matching pajamas that don't even fit him, we can conclude fairly easily that they are yet at a third party's place. Considering that something like a mass disappearance is not something anyone could have anticipated, barring extenuating circumstance, then the current situation is most probably an arrangement of fortune. The fact that they are both resting on top of the covers and that the bed seems mostly untouched is proof that it hasn't been used for anything but sleeping, and quite sound sleep at that."

"Oh!" Caster said, anger deflating rapidly and relief dawning over her face.

"Is this girl someone you know, Fujimura-sensei?"

"Eh? No, I haven't seen her before."

"Has Emiya-kun been in Misaki frequently in the past?" Rin pressed on.

"Ah, well, as far as I know he went there only once before and very briefly."

"In conclusion, this unknown girl is probably a recent acquaintance, likely someone involved with yesterday's incident to some degree. Their closeness is a bit odd, perhaps, but in a situation where Dead Apostles and the Church's Executors are involved, it's not really something worthy of notice, all things considered."

A moment went by where everyone was silent while they stared at Rin. Saber seemed appreciative of her Master's deductive skills and intellect as she nodded periodically during her explanation. Fujimura was clapping her hands slowly, like a kid watching a detective drama, while Caster was sizing her up in a way different from ever before. Was it respect that Rin saw for a moment in her eyes?

"Yes, of course," Caster nodded finally, downplaying her own relief. "It's certainly something like that."

"Naturally, it doesn't take a genius like me to figure this all out," Rin said with absolutely zero modesty. "And anyone who knows Emiya well enough would understand that he's not the kind of person to make people worry over his life while he has an affair with a woman."

Caster looked away.

"But of course, one has to trust him implicitly to realize that. Obviously, not everyone is capable of doing something like that."

Caster winced visibly, but turned to glare at Rin.

"You've made your point, ojou-san," she said flatly. "Was there anything else?"

"No, that's about it," Rin declared in satisfaction, smiling as she stood up to leave. "Saber, we're done here. Don't bother showing us the way out, Fujimura-sensei. Say hi to Emiya on my behalf when you hear him, alright? I'll see you on Monday at school."

She left hastily with Saber in tow.

"Thank you for the hospitality," the blonde Servant said, inclining her head on the way to catch up with her Master.

"Master, was it really necessary to provoke Caster to such an extent?" she asked once they were out of Emiya's place and out of earshot. "I don't think it's wise to incur her hostility over matters that do not concern us."

"You are still considering them the opposition, Saber," Rin explained without slowing. "However, with the current state of the Grail they are the best asset at our disposal. We can't afford to lose them over some ridiculous misunderstanding. More importantly, Emiya is currently the only reason I'm willing to trust a Servant who betrayed her Master once already," – _not that I wouldn't have done the same in Caster's place-_ , she silently added. "It's far better that she's angry at me rather than with the only person who seems to hold a sliver of her loyalty."

Saber nodded in acquiescence. Rin's reasoning was sound and she was satisfied with it. Allies didn't necessarily have to play nice with each other. Ensuring the full functionality of their cooperation was a much more important goal than gaining some fleeting appreciation. She could see the wisdom in that.

For that reason, her appreciation for her Master went up another notch. Rin had a wicked, Merlin-like personality that at times annoyed even Saber, but the King of Knights was more than willing to accept her abrasiveness because she could see that her Master was as strict with herself as she was with others. There was no doubt that they were extremely different individuals, and that at some point or another they would be at odds over something, but it would hardly ever be about the tactical validity of her choices.

More importantly, the Dream Cycle she was having gave her more than a little insight to her Master's depths, just as she knew Rin was having the same opportunity.

Slowly, Master and Servant made their way back home, silently carrying their own and each other's burdens.

* * *

><p>Shirou woke up to the pressure of his own throbbing headache, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, with a feeling of dread swelling up in his chest.<p>

He might have jumped to a seated position if his body didn't feel so hopelessly heavy. The sense of alarm subsided as he recognized and recollected where he was and why. The foreign sense of fear that caused it in the first place did not, yet there was no reason to be scared in his immediate surroundings.

Was it maybe the remnant of a nightmare he couldn't recall? Perhaps that was it. He had the impression that someone was calling his name with a voice filled with anguish, but he wasn't sure who it was: a figment of his imagination, most likely.

Slowly he pulled himself up and looked around. Because the Tohno household was mostly devoid of people, his room was silent. Yumizuka was nowhere to be found, so she had probably gone back to her room, at some point. His eyes glanced at a nearby clock and noticed that it was not even five hours past the time he had gone to sleep.

That was odd since he felt well rested, if a little groggy, and even his wound had healed more than he thought possible in such a short frame of time even with Avalon's minor healing factor. Well, it wasn't something that bothered him anyway.

However, he was hungry, famished even. His stomach felt as if someone had stabbed him repeatedly. Now that wasn't surprising at all. Prana expenditure and fighting were known to build up an appetite, after all. Perhaps, he thought, he could impose a little and ask for something to eat. Surely he could pay them back for their hospitality later.

He stood and stretched as much as his stiff and wounded body allowed him to. His muscles felt like lead and his mouth was dry like sand, but it wasn't all that bad for a man who had been skewered and beaten.

So why didn't the eerie feeling fade? What was this echo at the back of his mind? It made him feel extremely restless, so he stuck his head out into the hallway in spite of the order not to leave his room.

Seeing no one coming from either side, he tip-toed to Yumizuka's room and knocked on the door, but he received no answer. He knocked again, and still there was no response. Out of instinct he moved to try the handle and the door creaked open almost on its own, as if to invite him in. That was more than a bit creepy.

His mind switched into high gear as he surreptitiously threaded past the door frame, the hammer of a gun slowly rising somewhere into his soul, ready to fall at a moment's notice.

Inside the room, scarcely illuminated as expected from a vampire's resting place, Shirou could see that the bed was unmade; Yumizuka's pajama was lying rumpled on the ground, on the other side of the bed. He approached and picked up the shirt as if it could hold a hint of its owner whereabouts.

Then, precisely at that moment, Yumizuka walked out of the bathroom, holding a towel to dry her still damp hair.

She froze in place like a deer in the headlights when she noticed him standing there. Similarly, Shirou was rooted on the spot, speechless and dumbfounded. Such a reaction was most certainly caused by the aforementioned towel being the only piece of clothing in the immediate vicinity of Yumizuka's young and freshly showered body.

A moment of silence went by, perhaps the longest in their combined existences. Then a feminine scream shook the Tohno's household very foundations.

Her voice made Shirou snap out of his stupor with a jolt. He promptly closed his eyes, putting both hands in front of his face for good measure.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted. "I didn't mean to… I got no answer… I wanted to…"

"Get out, get out, get out!" Yumizuka shrieked, using the small towel and her arms to hide as much as she could. Shirou immediately complied and started to move, but doing so without looking turned out to be far from a good idea.

His foot got stuck into her pajama on the floor and he stumbled forward. Of course, possessing agility, reflexes and situational awareness superior to most people he immediately understood that he was about to fall right into Yumizuka and twisted his body as to avoid that.

What he failed to consider was Yumizuka's own reaction: upon seeing him fall toward her, with the help of her vampiric reflexes, she moved out of the way… in the same direction and with the same timing as him.

**Thud!**

"Kya!"

"Ouch!"

Their heads collided loudly and neither of them could regain their balance in time. Their legs hit the edge of the bed, and they both fell.

* * *

><p>Satsuki's heart was beating so fast that her hearing registered it as a single whistling noise. That is, of course, if she had been paying it any attention.<p>

A brief moment of pain and the sudden vertigo of falling quickly faded as she took stock of the situation. She was lying naked, on the bed graciously offered by Tohno-san for her use. That wasn't too troubling, though she wasn't in the habit of lying naked usually. No, the problem was the redheaded boy whose weight was currently pinning her down on the mattress. His head was resting beside hers, buried in her shoulder from the fall, while his hands had, somehow, ended up holding her wrists, keeping her arms spread apart.

He pulled himself up; their eyes locked, and time seemed to freeze to a standstill. Then she averted her eyes, face aflame in embarrassment, but said nothing. Her body eased, though she couldn't tell whether it was in resignation or acceptance. Some men would have taken it as an open invitation.

Instead, Shirou jumped.

He didn't flex his limbs or made any preparatory motion for it, but Shirou jumped off her like she was a piece of scalding-hot metal and was out of the room before she could blink twice, running out of the room and closing the door behind him with a loud slam.

She remained laying there in shocked silence for a long while. Then, as the embarrassment faded she curled into a ball and pulled the covers up to hide her body

"Hee… hee hee hee," she giggled. Despite still feeling quite embarrassed for what just happened she couldn't help but laugh. For a few moments, Satsuki just kept laughing heartily.

She was mortified, she truly was, but the entire situation was pure comedy. Shirou's reaction on top of it was extremely funny. After being suddenly cast in a dark world full of ominous things, this silly, albeit extremely embarrassing event was something so wonderfully human that she couldn't help but find it relaxing and amusing.

She didn't know how she'd face him after this, but for the time being she was just grateful about everything.

* * *

><p>"Oh god," Shirou palmed his face once he was safely inside his room. "I'm the worst. Shit! Shit! Shit! How am I going to show my face around her after this?"<p>

He berated himself for a few minutes, banging his head against the walls while he paced around the room, until a knocking on the door snapped him out of his self-deprecation.

Fearfully, as if death was waiting behind it, he went to open the door. Yumizuka stood just outside his room, dressed in her school uniform now free of holes and blemishes. She was staring at the floor with her bangs hiding her eyes from Shirou's view.

"Yumizuka-san, I'm sorry," he bowed deeply. "I'm really, really, really sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to do any of that."

"I won't forgive you," she muttered darkly. "I definitely won't forgive you."

"I underst- ouch," he yelped as she bopped him over his still bowed head.

"I definitely won't forgive you if you don't call me by my first name," she clarified.

Shirou straightened up and saw that she was smiling with a cute pink hue on her cheeks, although she was not looking at him in the eyes.

"P-pardon?" he asked, rubbing the spot where she had hit him.

"It's like I said. I won't forgive you if you don't call me Satsuki from now on."

"But… what does it have to do with…"

"What? Do you think you can save my life, feed me your blood, sleep in the same bed as me, see me naked, grope me and still pretend you are not familiar with me? I won't let you get away with it."

"Uuuh?" he moaned not understating the situation anymore. He backed up, trying to put some distance between them and make sense of things again.

"Say it, now," Yumizuka pressed, closing the distance. Soon enough Shirou found himself with his back to the wall.

"Wait a moment, Yumizu-"

"Sa! Tsu! Ki!" she insisted, cutting him off and pointing her index finger at him accusingly, holding it an inch from his nose.

"Satsuki!" he nearly shouted. "Alright, I get it. I'll call you Satsuki from now on," he finally conceded, left with no further escape routes. He held both his hands up in surrender. He could tell when he was defeated, although he still didn't understand what kind of battle he had been fighting and why.

"See? That wasn't so hard," she said, relenting her offense. "Now, about that apology…"

"Right," he bowed again. "I'm really sorry for before, Satsuki-san."

"Satsuki-san? Hmm… very well, I suppose that will suffice for the moment," she said with fake haughtiness. Then, more sincerely, "I forgive you."

"Thank you," Shirou breathed out in sincere relief. "I wouldn't know what to do if you didn't."

Satsuki laughed merrily. "Honestly, you worry too much Shirou. It was an honest accident. I couldn't hold it against you even if I tried. Besides, I really needed something to laugh about."

"Well," he said laughing awkwardly himself. "Glad to be of assistance."

"Good. Now that everything's settled, it's better if I go back to my room. I left a mess back there."

"Sure. And thanks," he added as she was about to leave.

"Honestly, I'm the one who should be thanking you," she replied, halfway to the door. "Oh, by the way…"

"Yes?"

"Next time, be more gentle," she told him as she closed the door behind her.

"…. Next time? _What next time_?" he asked to the empty room. He remained there for a long while, pondering on the recent developments. In the end, the only conclusion he was able to reach was that he couldn't understand women at all.

* * *

><p>An ear-piercing scream, clearly of female origins echoed through the area of the Tohno mansion reserved to the staff. In the kitchen, Kohaku looked up from what she was currently doing.<p>

"It looks like Emiya-san is finally awake," Hisui said as she passed through with some cleaning supplies.

"He slept well over a day," Kohaku nodded. "I suppose he'll be quite hungry. I'll make him an extra portion. Hisui, would you please inform Akiha-sama? She wanted to speak with him, as I recall.

Hisui nodded and left, while Kohaku returned to her task, smiling to herself. It looked like making the key to Yumizuka-san's room disappear worked well enough. And just like Akiha-sama said, Emiya-san really had a talent for being at the right place at the right time. That young man was probably the greatest source of both amusement and worry for someone, somewhere.

For now he could very well be Hisui's plaything as well.

* * *

><p>"Emiya-san, are you awake? I've brought you breakfast," the cheerful voice of the maid, Kohaku if he recalled correctly, came with a knocking to his door as soon as he changed from his pajama to his now clean and patched up clothes.<p>

"Yes, please come on in."

The maid walked in carrying a tray with a western-style breakfast. It wasn't precisely his favorite, but he wouldn't have complained even in normal circumstances; no way he would when he was starving. After a quick thank you he dug into his food with barely acceptable manners, while Kohaku watched with satisfaction.

"I'm glad to see you have built an appetite," she said kindly. "We were worried since we couldn't wake you up."

"Hm?" he swallowed. "You tried to wake me? I don't remember."

"Well, yes. We didn't try too hard, mind you, but I was beginning to think we'd have hook you up to an IV if you slept much longer."

"An-" he took a mouthful, chewing on it as he pondered her words with a frown. "An IV? Don't you mean a transfusion? But I didn't lose all that blood and my wound had already stopped bleeding."

"Oh no, I meant for nourishment. If you remained unconscious for much longer you could have had serious long term consequences."

"Wait a moment," he put down his fork, "exactly how long have I been sleeping?"

"Eh? I would say around thirty hours."

"…"

"Emiya-san?"

"I'm in trouble, Kohaku-san," he stated slowly, a bead of sweat making its way down the side of his face. "I'm in soooo much trouble."

"More than you can probably imagine, Emiya-san," said Akiha, entering the room like she owned it, which she did. She had a folded newspaper in her hands and placed it on the desk, right in front of him. Shirou looked at her quizzically, then he took the paper and read the first page.

He jumped to a standing position, staring at the newspaper like he wanted to dive into it from how close he put it to his face. The initial curiosity morphed to an expression of stunned disbelief. H is skin paled even further, and his fingers dug into the paper, crumpling it at the edges.

Bearing the date of what he now knew to be the previous day, the newspaper reported the disappearance of hundreds of people from the hotel where he had been staying. Where he would have been if he hadn't been fighting against the Church Executor.

A maelstrom of emotions swirled inside his stomach while countless different scenarios played inside his head.

If only he hadn't rescued Satsuki. If only he hadn't fought against Ciel. If only he hadn't kept the only two people with a measure of power to prevent such a thing busy fighting over the life of a single person, could either one of them have taken notice of what was happening elsewhere and put a stop to it?

For a single life saved, a hundred were lost.

One life in exchange for many.

Was this paradigm truly inescapable?

Should he have let Ciel kill Satsuki so that they could both focus on the actual threat?

No.

No.

No.

No.

He could not accept something like that. Regardless of how things played out, saving Satsuki had not been a mistake. To begin with, there was no guarantee that things would have been any different had he made a different choice.

No, even if he had known he could have made a difference, he would have still tried to save everyone. He knew that the path of sacrificing one life to save many was not a solution. Kiritsugu had seen the end of that path and the only thing that lay there was endless bloodshed.

Any Victory achieved on those terms was a Crime in and of itself.

"Emiya-san!" Akiha shouted, ripping the newspaper from his hands and Shirou himself from his thought. "Are you listening to me?"

"I… I'm sorry… what?" he asked, brain struggling to keep up with his own inner turmoil and the demands of reality.

"I asked you if you knew anything about this. You made no mention of this other accident."

"I-No," he shook his head, putting his personal inner dilemma on the back of his mind for the time being. "Sorry, I didn't know anything about it. I think… I think it must have happened while I was busy with the Executor. Damn it… this is all my fault."

**Whack!**

Akiha smacked him over the head with the rolled newspaper. An uncharacteristic action that even her maid found startling, judging from how she looked at her employer.

"You're a fool, Emiya," she reproached. "There's no reason to blame yourself over something that wasn't your doing. More importantly, had you not done what you did, the number of victims would include one more person. Do you regret saving Yumizuka-san, Emiya?"

"… Not at all," he said after a moment of hesitation, but firmly enough to convey his convictions. Yeah, no matter how it played out, in the end he would not regret his choice. No, if there was one thing he could blame himself for was not being strong enough when it counted the most.

If he hadn't allowed the Dead Apostle to escape, if his skill set had been good enough to evade Ciel instead of having to engage her, then the outcome would have been different. Either way, the loss of so many lives couldn't be held as result of Satsuki's salvation. Believing otherwise was taking the easy road to nowhere.

"Thank you, Akiha-san," I said, smiling faintly, "I think I needed to hear that."

Akiha nodded firmly like a teacher who had made her point across and was satisfied with her own work. It was hard to believe she was a year younger than Shirou. He supposed that the position of Head of a wealthy family wasn't just handed out at random, after all.

"That said, Emiya, what do you plan to do from now on? Your name figures among the missing therefore I avoided contacting anyone without your consent."

"Yeah, about that I should really call home," he said glancing at the hand where the invisible Command Seal was etched. "I think I'm going to get an earful this time. I there a phone I could use? My phone battery is dead and I left the charger in my room at the hotel."

"Of course. Kohaku will show you to it."

* * *

><p>When the phone rang inside the Emiya household, Medea walked to it slowly with a neutral expression. Picking up the receiver, she placed it to her ear.<p>

"Medea?" he asked tentatively from the other end on the line, dread evident in his voice.

The witch inhaled deeply, supercharging her vocal cords as she did, lips curling to form the words she had been wanting to speak for well over a day.

Outside of the Emiya household, despite the sound-dampening field that surrounded it, birds scattered from the nearby trees in fright.

**"SHIROU, YOU IDIOT!"**

* * *

><p>The only thing that Shirou's brain registered from his auditory canal was blinding pain. Medea's words didn't properly register though somehow the recipient received the meaning of her message quite clearly.<p>

Groaning, with his eyes clenched shut he switched the receiver to his other ear while he plugged the offended one with his pinky finger in an attempt to soothe the pain. Then he moved the receiver aside as he heard that his Servant was still shouting at him

What he didn't know was that very few people were able to make her reach the point where she cursed them verbally, instead of magically. It was a blessing in disguise, really.

"Medea," he tried to interrupt, but to no avail. "Medea, please, calm down"

"Don't you tell me to calm down!" the Princess of Colchis raged. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? Even if knew you were alive through our contract, it wasn't until I scryed for you that I was sure you were even relatively fine. And even then you have been unconscious for a whole day. What in the name of Hades happened, and more importantly who is that girl who was sleeping with you yesterday?"

"Urk!" he groaned. "You saw that?"

"You can be damn sure I saw it," she growled into the phone. "Who is she?"

"Ah. Eh. She's… a person I saved two nights ago?" he said uncertainly, trying to stay away from the important.

"I figured that out on my own, Shirou. What I wanted to know is what compelled you to keep her around after you saved her. Even if your hypnotic abilities are laughable at best, certainly the Executor could have taken care of that."

"Ah… well. You see… that solution wasn't exactly, ah, feasible, you know?"

"I don't," she replied flatly, obviously not wanting to give him any chance to wiggle out of a necessary explanation. "Why couldn't she just have her memories altered and sent on her way?"

"She was… well… she was sort of, ah, bitten by a Dead Apostle and, you know… became one as well."

"Excuse me?" she asked after a moment of stunned silence, her voice positively frosty. "Shirou, please tell me I misheard and that you didn't just tell me that not only did you not kill on sight a creature that has YOU on its regular diet, but you also decided it was a good idea to keep it in your bed too."

"You know, ah-hah," he laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, "it does sound bad when you put it that way."

"Shiroooou…, " she growled into the phone. "I swear, any more of this nonsense and I-"

"She's like you," he told bluntly, cutting off yet another understandable tirade.

"Wha-"

"I couldn't let her be punished for something that had been done to her against her will, Medea," he clarified. "I couldn't look away and let a crime like that be repeated because it was convenient. Please, understand."

"…"

"Medea? Are you still there?"

"You are a cruel man, Shirou," she muttered in a subdued voice. "If you tell me something like that, then I can't possibly stay mad at you, even if I want to throttle you so very much right now."

"I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be your ally but all I do is make you worry."

"It can't be helped, I suppose," she sighed. " I knew you were a fool from the moment I met you and I have been an even bigger fool to expect anything different from you. Never mind. What are you going to do from now on? You made no mention of the situation being solved, so I'm not expecting you to come back at this point."

"You're right. There are many things that don't add up. The incident at the hotel is… off, somehow. I can't be completely sure of it but I feel there is more going on than I know."

"So, what's your next step?"

"I'm going to contact the Church's Executor and see if she knows anything more, even if we didn't exactly part on good terms last time."

"Why not? You haven't said anything about her being… Wait. Shirou, don't tell me you got your wounds from fighting against the Executor over that girl's life, did you?"

"I really wish it wasn't like that… but it is."

"Damn it, Shirou. She's probably hunting for you, how do you expect to approach her?"

"No, actually she let us go when she had me pretty much at her mercy. She didn't like it, but I think she understood where I was coming from. We're not quite friends but we should still be able to work together."

"I have the feeling you are not telling me everything," she observed.

"That's because I'm not. Look, I don't want to keep things from you and I promise I'll give a more thorough explanation once I get back. Suffice it to say that I gleaned some of her history and personality from the numerous blades she threw at me, so I can tell with what and at what lengths I can trust her."

"That makes sense. Fine, be sure to keep me updated with every new development, are we clear? You won't like what I'll do to you when you get back if you don't."

"I have no intention to find out what you might have in store for me, believe me," he laughed at her playful threats, though he didn't doubt she'd act on them if it came down to it.

"Good. By the way, give that detective friend of yours a call. He said something about fixing your situation with the authorities."

"Oh, yes, I'll do that. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Oh, just so you know, your reasons might have convinced me not to skin you alive when you get back, but Taiga won't buy your excuses as easily as I did," she reported with evident amusement. "I saw her swing around one of those training swords she's so fond of yesterday, and though I don't know how she came by it I'm certain it was cursed."

"Yeah," Shirou flinched at the information, "that's Torashinai, all right. I can't say I'm surprised either. Well, I'll take whatever punishment she thinks I deserve without complaining. It's the least I owe her for making the both of you worry."

"Serves you right," she agreed, "but Shirou, please stop making me worry. You of all people should know how it feels when you want to help someone but you're powerless to do anything."

"Who's being cruel now?" he said sarcastically, but visibly grimacing nonetheless.

"It's nothing more than you deserve," Medea replied guiltlessly, "but still, please, come back safely."

Her voice was heavy and laced with an emotion that Shirou couldn't quite identify. It wasn't just simple worry, that much he could tell, but it made him feel strange, like a weight had been placed upon his shoulders.

"I promise," he replied, even if he knew better than to make such promises easily. This strange feeling… just what was it?

They bade each other goodbye and Shirou put down the receiver. He was relieved that he had managed to sort out things with Medea, and yet this conversation had let him feeling like he had missed something important regarding her.

He shook his head to get rid of the thought. Women were mysterious creatures, and he would never figure them out. That was all there was to it.

* * *

><p>On her end, Medea put down the receiver as well and sighed, emotions swirling inside her. The past few days had been extremely taxing on her. Walking on the precipice of uncertainty wasn't something she enjoyed, and recently she had been forced to do so countless times.<p>

Stupid Shirou-this was all his fault.

Truthfully, she had decided to keep her feelings for him to herself in order to avoid complications and the risk of being rejected. Quite frankly, she thought herself to be more capable of controlling her emotions, just like any good betrayer and mastermind is supposed to be. In truth, her poker face crumbled as soon as she felt personally involved.

Inwardly, she cringed. Was this the reason the Gods had been able to so easily twist her mind and feelings to suit their goals? Was she nothing more than a puppet to her own emotions? She probably was.

Even when she was still the Princess of Colchis, loved by everyone, she was a very passionate person. Coldness didn't come naturally to her. It was a self-defense mechanism, one that had started crumbling the very moment she found a person she could actually trust.

And of course, this frightened her to no end. She felt vulnerable, exposed, and the natural consequence was that she closed up tighter than an oyster at the first glimpse of a possibility of being hurt, lashing out in anger.

Saber's master was mistaken. It wasn't like she didn't trust Shirou. She didn't trust herself: that strange, unknown person behind that crumbling wall that shared her face, who scared her to no end.

And so she got angry with Shirou, for no other reason than being himself, because he was the catalyst of this change. His existence was a blessing because it gave her a chance to reevaluate herself, and a curse because it forced her to.

For someone who could not control her feelings like her, there was no choice of speed at which she could change. Her only choice was to accept this change with all the risks that it entailed or not, and lose her chance at redemption in the process.

Regardless of the era, life was a harsh mistress unconcerned with the needs and desires of anyone.

* * *

><p>That afternoon, after a few calls with a very concerned police detective, Shirou went to the local police department to answer a few questions. While Dojima could have easily spared him the trouble, Shirou preferred not to rely on the influence of his contacts if it wasn't strictly needed. Unlike the Clock Tower, he didn't have any power to make information about him disappear from the police archives, and asking Dojima to do it for him was tantamount to asking him to commit a crime. The detective's boundaries were already stretched as they were, and therefore there was no need to push him further, especially when there were simpler methods. The only thing he needed was for Dojima to vouch for him when the officers from Misaki would inevitably make a background check on him.<p>

After answering a few questions, making it clear that he hadn't been at the hotel in the relevant timeframe, mentioning his residence at the Tohno household for a couple of nights, Shirou was sent on his way clear of all suspicion.

Of course, the matter was all but solved in his eyes. And now that he no longer had the authorities' attention, he could look into it with more ease after sunset.

For the time being, he had a whole afternoon to go spend in some way. Although he wasn't much in the mood for anything, he guessed that anything was better than sitting on his ass. Recalling that he originally had other business to attend to in Misaki, he headed for the local museum.

Being a working day, after rush hour there weren't too many people around. Still, Misaki's Museum of Japanese History was fairly crowded. Then again, it was one of Japan's biggest museums in term of size, with its four floors of constant exhibits. Unlike the other establishments of its kind such as the Nara National Museum, it wasn't very well known outside of the academic circles. As such, it didn't attract many foreign tourists and sharing a building with the local public library ensured that most of its visitors were either university students or professors.

Not belonging to either category, Shirou had the privilege of paying the entrance ticket in full. He didn't regret a single yen of it.

Although most objects exposed were not blades, many of them were still works of metal, from agricultural to carpentry tools. Being non-perishable and having rather minor value, most of them weren't even under glass cases. Paying attention to the security, Shirou Traced a number of items, such as hammers, nails, a hoe and even a plough. A few of them, although not strictly weapons, he was able to acquire with just a look as if they were swords. Apparently his element encompassed more that what is usually considered a sword.

From the second floor upward, security tightened. Now, protected under alarmed glass cases, there were objects of higher cultural and monetary value, such as samurai armors and weapons.

That was definitely hitting the jackpot for Shirou. Although none of these items were remotely close to Mystic Codes, they were a veritable wellspring of forging information. With every moment of his visit he was increasing his knowledge on the processes required to craft metal in every shape and form. It came as easy as breathing to him. As unfair as it was for all those who had spent their lives honing their crafts, Shirou was just soaking them in.

The act of putting them into practice was an entirely different matter, but this crash-course was better than anything he could have accomplished otherwise, especially in such a short amount of time. There were so many possibilities for creating future arrows now. The number of possible applications of Magecraft in the forging processes was blatantly obvious even for an amateur like him. He could finally make spiritually infused projectiles without using Reinforcement or Alteration in the middle of a fight, consuming Prana that could be employed otherwise.

He chuckled darkly under his breath, refraining from cackling madly altogether. Still, the few people in the vicinity subtly inched from the creepy guy, leaving him alone in the hall. Medea was definitely rubbing off on him in the worst possible way.

He was so engrossed by all the possibilities that he almost missed the reflection of movement behind him on the glass case and the soft hiss of a projectile racing toward him.

He span and moved to the side, hand in motion before he actually saw his assailant. His fingers curled around the offending object in mid-air where his head used to be just as his eyes found the figure of a masked person with a quiver on his back and a bow in his hands.

That peculiar get-up gave him pause enough to process what he was actually seeing instead of reacting out of instinct. Otherwise, he might have done something that would have attracted more undue attention.

His assailant was short, much too short to be an adult. He was wearing a pair of shorts, sneakers and a bright red t-shirt. The boy, as he was now correctly identified, stared in awe at the arrow in Shirou's hand while still holding his toy bow in front of him.

An awkward silence stretched and was subsequently broken by the boy's loud outburst.

"THAT WAS AWESOME!" he shouted, pulling up his mask and revealing his young brown eyes. With a band-aid across his nose and one on his left knee he was the picture of the stereotypical Japanese kid. "How did you do that?"

"What? Now wait a second, kid. What do you think you're doing shooting arrows at people inside a museum? You could have hurt someone or broken something."

The boy's enthusiasm shrank at being scolded, but defiantly returned as he scowled behind his mask.

"Shut up! I'm not a kid," he protested. "Beware, you evil-doer. I am," he shifted in a Sentai pose with his arms stretched obliquely to one side, "Archer, the Ally of Justice!"

"…Where are your parents, kid?" Shirou asked completely disregarding the boy's previous statement.

"I said I'm not a kid!"

"Right," Shirou sighed wearily. "Anyway let's find your parents."

"Kenta!" a woman called in a white coat as she approached swiftly from the other side of the room. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

"Ack!" Kenta yelped. "The Youma found me. I must retreat for now. You, evil-doer" he glared at Shirou, "we will meet again. Keep my arrow until that time as a reminder of the fate that awaits you."

He then span around dramatically, tossing his non-existent cloak behind his shoulder and running toward the other exit, disappearing between a group of coming visitors.

"Kenta, wait!" the woman pleaded to no avail, stopping near Shirou. "That child, what will I ever do with him?"

Toy arrow still in hand, Shirou stared at the woman. She couldn't have been older than thirty, with short raven hair and a professional suit under a grey coat. The badge on her chest identified her as Professor Aihara Haruka, clearly a member of the staff.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir," she apologized, bowing to Shirou. "Did Kenta bother you?

"Not at all," Shirou replied politely. "Your son is a bit hyperactive, but it's not a problem."

"My son?" she blinked. "Oh no. Kenta isn't my child. I just look after him sometimes."

"Ah," Shirou bowed his head apologetically "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume."

"No, it's not the first time it's happened. It's quite understandable really." Only then did she notice the toy arrow still clutched in Shirou's hand. Her eyes widened, as she turned frantically to look at him more closely. "Oh, no. Did Kenta shoot you with his bow? Are you hurt somewhere?"

"What?" Shirou blinked, not understanding for a moment. "No. No, I'm fine really."

"I apologize on his behalf," she bowed deeply. "Kenta is not a bad child. This may sound like an excuse, but he lost his mother when he was only a few months old. I've watched over him ever since while his father is busy with work, but I can't seem to make him listen to anything I say."

Shirou wondered briefly why she was telling all this to a perfect stranger, but then thought that she probably needed to vent some frustration. Being his usual self, he listened silently.

Apparently realizing that she had run her mouth needlessly, she bowed. "I'm sorry. Here I am worrying about Kenta bothering you, and now I'm doing much the same."

"It's no trouble," Shirou smiled. "Sometimes we only need someone to listen for things to feel better. If I have been of help, then I'm glad."

"Such a polite man," she smiled. "I wish Kenta would learn a thing or two from you, uh…. I didn't even introduce myself. I'm sorry, I'm Aihara Haruka."

"Emiya Shirou," the redhead inclined his head with a smile. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise, Emiya-san" she replied still embarrassed. "Now, I think I've made myself enough of a fool for today. I still have to find Kenta and then I have to get back to work."

"Do you want me to help you look?" Shirou proposed, being his usual helpful self.

"Oh no, we've both bothered you enough as it is. Besides, it's my duty to watch over that child. Don't worry, Emiya-san."

"If you say so, Aihara-san, good luck."

"Thank you Emiya-san," the woman smiled "I think I'll need it."

Aihara-san left to chase after Kenta, disappearing through the crowd. Shirou shrugged and went about his business. He only had a couple of hours to waste before it was time to go back to prepare, and he still had two floors of antiques to explore.

* * *

><p>Somewhere else in Misaki, a taxi moved through the quiet streets of mid-afternoon. The driver, a middle-aged man, peered at his passenger from the rearview mirror.<p>

She was a pretty little thing with light grey hair, which was strange since she was obviously fairly young, and wore a blue dress of priestly design complete with a beret of the same color and a metal cross dangling from her neck. Even though he wasn't a Christian, he could tell fairly easily that she was a nun.

She was hardly the first nun he'd had as a fare, but she was by far the most angelic creature he had ever seen, with bright golden eyes and a serene expression. From that day onward, if he ever imagined an angel, it would definitely have her face.

For that reason, it disquieted him greatly to see bandages sticking out from the collar and the sleeves of her dress. Had she been involved in some kind of accident, perhaps? The poor little thing.

His musing were brought short when he arrived at her destination, a small establishment that exclusively served curry-based dishes known only to a few, and pulled over to let her out.

He made sure to give her a large discount on the fees and warned her to be cautious. There was a serial killer on the loose, after all. Yet in spite of his very serious warning, the nun simply smiled and thanked him for his concern. She dismissed it, though, claiming that the Lord would watch over her.

He left her on the sidewalk, but kept following her figure in the rearview mirror until she entered the restaurant. He felt a bit sad for her. While her innocence was a precious thing, she would do better to learn that people could be really ugly inside, god or no god. If she didn't, she would only get hurt.

The poor little thing.

* * *

><p>The door swung open accompanied by the chime of bells.<p>

Sitting in a corner, Ciel watched the newcomer approach her table and sit across from her.

"Good day, Elesia," the grey haired woman greeted, removing her hat.

"Don't call me _that_," Ciel growled. "Gods, why did they have to send you of all people?"

"My, my… Ciel, is it this time? It almost sounds like you don't like me."

"I don't like you," she nodded emphatically. "You're the second most unnerving person I have the displeasure to know."

"Heavens, what did I ever do to deserve such treatment from you?" she laughed softly in genuine amusement.

_'You exist,'_ Ciel thought, but held her tongue. Getting upset over anything she did was exactly what she wanted.

"Where is your escort anyway?" she changed subject. "I thought they would arrive with you."

"Hm? What in the world are you talking about? I thought that you, the curry siphoning monster, were tasked to be my escort."

"Who's a curry siphon- what did you just say?" she hissed. "No way. I told Narbarek that I can't afford be split between guard duty and hunting Roa, especially not with Arcueid as close to him as I am. What's she thinking? It's like she's telling me to either be cursed forever or to let you die and live with it."

"Knowing her, that's probably as you say," the gray haired woman said unperturbed.

"Aren't you concerned at all? This is your life we're talking about."

"Which rests in the hands of the Almighty, as it always does. He will provide as He sees fit according to His designs, no doubt."

"Right," Ciel sighed. "Sometimes I forget you're actually properly ordained, unlike me. In any case, unless God is going to drop a guardian angel on your lap right now we should really look for a less divine solution. I'm going to call the headquarters and demand at least a couple of Executors."

"Wouldn't that be counter-productive, Ciel? I mean, if Roa sees too many of our forces on his territory, wouldn't he just leave the city and start anew elsewhere? There is no particular reason for him to stay in one place if not for his own stubbornness. He has literally all the time in the world."

"Urgh," Ciel cringed. Of course she was correct. As there was no particular way to track a Dead Apostle with the exception of numerous disappearances in a limited area, it was standard protocol not to give them a reason to discard their pride and relocate when found. For that reason only one, maybe two Executors were deployed in the same area at the same time, so as to give the Dead Apostles a chance at winning instead of depriving them of all options with the exception of retreating and relocating.

The situation in Misaki was already stretched as it was. Another Apostle would have left the moment Arcueid came into the fray, and it was only Roa's personal obsession with the White Princess that kept him around in spite of the odds, and even then he tried to even the odds by calling in Nrvnqsr Chaos.

This latest wretched creature had already been dealt with in _a most unorthodox manner_, but not before he could prey upon several dozen innocent guests of a nearby hotel, and now the odds were again stacked against Roa to the point where running wasn't really that unthinkable for him. In truth, if his sanity hadn't already been compromised by the successive reincarnation he would have already fled.

It didn't help that there was also that Magus roaming the streets in search of… 'Huh.'

"Ciel? Is everything alright?"

Ciel's lips curved in an all too predatory smile.

"I think I might have the solution to our dilemma. There is a person nearby that's qualified to help you out."

"Oh? Who could it possibly be?"

"The biggest idiot I've ever met," she replied wickedly. "Come on, Caren, let's go find him."

* * *

><p>-XXX-<p>

* * *

><p>AN:<p>

One year! I can't believe it's been this long since I last updated. In my defense it's been a pretty though year, with my father getting sick and passing away in a matter of months. We weren't really close (a bit more than strangers actually), but there is something eye-opening in watching a man wither and holding his hand while he exhales his last breath.

Long story short it took me a while to get back in the mindset to write anything but I'm finally back.

Now, you might as well know that I have already two more chapters written and a third one on the way, so we should be fine for the foreseeable future. I plan to release them on a monthly basis since I can't obviously handle two chapters a month.

Well, this is it for now. As usual by thanks go to RavingScholar for the excellent beta-reading but also to all of the readers who have supported me during the past moths. You guys are awesome.

I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year (whether you celebrate them or not).

See ya all in 2015!


	29. That Which Bleeds (II)

**Chapter 28 - That Which Bleeds (II)**  
><strong>Published - 02.01.15 - Beta: RavingScholar<strong>

* * *

><p>When night descended upon Misaki once more, Shirou slipped silently out of the Tohno estate through the window of his room. Stealthily, he navigated through the park that surrounded the mansion until he reached the wall at the end of it.<p>

There, with a minor application of Prana, he leapt over the wall and into the street behind. After a quick glance to ensure he hadn't been spotted, he started walking in the direction of the city.

His wounds had completely healed after not even two days of rest, which was extremely strange considering that he basically had a hole in his shoulder. Somehow, it seemed that the workings of Avalon had gotten stronger as of late, which was an oddity in and of itself.

The regenerative powers of the legendary scabbard that would house Excalibur were supposed to work exclusively for the King of Knights or for someone in a contract with her summoned form. Having it conceptualized inside his body for nearly ten years, Shirou had developed some sort of affinity for the Noble Phantasm, which granted him a slightly accelerated healing factor, but nothing that went past bruises and sore muscles. Now instead an open wound stopped bleeding as soon as he stopped exerting the surrounding area, and within two days only a faint scar was left.

What could have brought this change, he wondered as he walked toward the center of the city. Perhaps he had reached yet another "affinity level" after the prolonged exposure, or perhaps, he hoped his most recent choices had impressed the Noble Phantasm?

It was, of course, nothing more than wishful thinking, but it didn't change the fact that Avalon was acting differently.

He cut short his own musings when he arrived in the general area of the hotel. As a precaution he walked around the entire block, to see if he could spot someone still watching the building. Finding none, he snuck into an alley and came out as his Archer persona. From there he hopped onto a nearby building and entered the empty hotel through a window so as not to remove the police seals.

With only the moon as a source of light, the hotel was void of life was even more eerie than he had expected. With the silent stillness of the city outside as a background, the empty building was just like a cemetery. It was an image that was far too fitting to Shirou, who in spite of Tohno's reassurance on top of his own was still grieving over the loss of life that had taken place there.

Shaking away needless thoughts, Shirou set forth to uncover what had happened. His footsteps echoed through the corridors as he inspected several rooms on different floors. There weren't many signs of struggle, with the exception of a few pieces of décor toppled over here and there. The eeriness was mostly due to the state in which the hotel had been left in, with beds unmade and items scattered around as if they had just been dropped where they were being used.

Something had taken everyone by surprise, nearly simultaneously, before anyone could even launch an alarm. What kind of advanced Magecraft could have caused that; mass hypnosis over a general area? Shirou didn't know, but he intended to find out.

Having reached the lobby, where only a few bloodstains remained as evidence of violence, Shirou swallowed thickly and set out to begin what was bound to be an extremely unsettling experience. He kneeled on the ground, placing his fingertips on the floor, and activate his Circuits.

"Trace on."

Immediately and violently, his brain was assaulted by information through his Structural Analysis. Usually, grasping an overly frequented place gave vague and confused readings, but the events of two nights prior had been so emotionally intense that it basically overwrote all other previous impressions.

Swirling madness.

There was no other way Shirou's consciousness could describe what he was feeling. He couldn't in all honesty understand what the creature that had ruthlessly exterminated the guests of the hotel was. For that matter, Shirou was under the impression that a single entity had not done this by itself. The readings were confused, muddled by the sheer horror of several dozen people and their final screams of anguish. All he could read was this bubbling cauldron of chaos in the middle of it all, devouring human lives with unending hunger.

"Is this… the true nature Roa Valdamjong?" he asked to himself.

"It is not."

Shirou jumped reflexively at the sound of the voice right behind him, whirling around as he did so. In his hands, almost as an afterthought, Kanshou and Bakuya materialized with a flash.

Heart hammering violently in his chest, Shirou took stock of the person who had so easily snuck behind him and shivered.

"Eles- CIEL!" he amended mid sentence. The girl in priestly clothing glared at his faux pas, but said nothing about it.

"Advanced Structural Grasping bordering on Psychometry and high-end Projections," she analyzed clinically. "It's a curious skill-set you've got there, Emiya. Then again, you are a most curious person yourself."

Shirou gulped, blades still at the ready. Having his Mysteries seen through was bad for any Magus, and he was no exception. For all his earlier placations to Medea, the truth was that he had struck a truce with the Executor that was based entirely on her whims.

"W-what are you doing here?" he asked tentatively. There was little reason for her to be there now, long after the incident had taken place. No doubt she investigated it as soon as the news reached her.

"I could ask you the same question, though our answers would surely differ. To make things short: I was looking for you."

"Me? Uh… I'm not sure how I should feel about that. Wait… what did you mean before? Isn't this Roa's doing?"

Ciel shook her head. "No. It's the work of Nrvnqsr Chaos."

"Nrvn…," Shirou stumbled over the name. "The Tenth ranked Dead Apostle Ancestor? You mean to tell me there are two of these creatures in town right now?"

"As of two days ago there were four, if we count your friend Yumizuka. Fortunately, Nrvnqsr has already been dealt with permanently."

Shirou was at a loss for words. The situation in Misaki had escalated drastically before he even noticed what was truly going on, and it had been already partially solved. A sense of uselessness crept up his stomach.

"Wait… you said four vampires. With Yumizuka, Roa and Nrvnqsr I count three. Who am I missing?"

Ciel sighed heavily, as if this latest figure was a greater burden than the other three combined.

"Arcueid Brunestud."

Shirou dispelled his blades in a shower of sparks, stood up straighter and rubbed his nose wearily.

"Heh. Let me get this straight," he held up his hand, "the White Princess of the Crimson Moon is here. In this town. Right now."

"That's what I said," Ciel told him flatly.

"What the hell is going on in these goddamn city? Two normal Dead Apostles in the same place would already be an oddity. This concentration of such high profile vampires can't possibly be normal."

"I can understand your feelings. This is what happens when several old loose ends finally get tied up all at the same time."

"I take it that's why you have been looking for me, right? You need me to help out with this situation."

"Not at all. I want you to stay out of it entirely."

"WHAT? There's just no way I'm going to stay outside and wat- GAH!"

Before he could even notice she had moved, Ciel covered the distance and grabbed his neck, slamming him against the wall with superhuman strength.

"I wasn't asking, Emiya," she told him, looking at him squarely in the eyes. "You don't have the requirements to deal with the likes of us. I acknowledge that you have strength and pure intentions, but you lack the skill-set to provide any useful contribution. Between me and Arcueid hunting Roa, his days are numbered."

"Then…" he choked out, glaring at the female Executor but without struggling to get free, "why have you even bothered looking for me in the first place?"

"Because you have some strength and pure intentions, like I said. You are the kind of person I can entrust to protect someone, with your life if need be."

Shirou's brows furrowed quizzically but his attention was caught. After all, whatever the reason and regardless of the circumstances, if there were someone who needed help, Emiya Shirou would not be able to look away.

* * *

><p>In her bed at the Tohno mansion, Yumizuka Satsuki lay fully awake. Sleep had evaded her for nearly two days now. It's not like she couldn't, but rather that she didn't need to.<p>

Her trouble over her new condition and her future kept her awake, that much is a given, but it was also true that she was neither tired nor sleepy to begin with.

That wasn't normal. But then again, 'normal' was quite a foreign concept for her now. The only familiar thing was a sense of utter estrangement from the events that had shaped her recent life.

She wasn't fine by any measure, but with the exception of the very first night, which she recalled mostly as a nightmarish blur there wasn't anything that made her feel strange.

Well, except for the fact that she had now incredible strength and speed. She used to be unable to do more than a couple pushups during P.E. without collapsing-now she could go on nearly indefinitely as far as she could tell. It wasn't all that impressive compared to ripping a couple of street lamps out of the concrete floor the night of her turning, but it did put things in perspective.

Above all, there was that dryness in her throat that never really disappeared. It could subside, be alleviated until it was barely noticeable, but it was there, always. Combined with her lack of need, she could not fall asleep.

Having resigned herself to be awake through the night, Satsuki got out of bed, changed from her pajama to her normal clothes and left from the window of her room.

She felt like a burglar, sneaking out like that, but she had been expressly asked not to roam the mansion. Akiha's brother Shiki, Satsuki's long time crush, was unaware of the Moonlit World and she wanted to keep it like that. Considering her own experience, Satsuki shared the sentiment; therefore, she abided to Akiha's request even late at night. Nonetheless, the need to occupy her mind was too strong to remain idle in her room, so she slipped out from the window and darted into the dense forest that made up the park around the mansion.

Moving with vampire-enhanced speed, she made sure she wouldn't be spotted until she was well out of sight even if someone had been looking out of a window at such a late hour. Only when she was well within the woods did she slow down to a more sedate pace.

Even though there was nothing truly out of place, the forest had an eerie quality, something that appealed to her new instincts. In the darkness, Satsuki felt incredibly aware of her surroundings. She could see extremely well even through the thick foliage, and she could even hear the breathing of small critters hiding from her and other predators.

It was ironic how she had become capable of noticing the thriving of life only after she had been robbed of it. Or was it rather fitting? She didn't know.

She did know, however, that there was a scent lingering in the air, so feeble that a human couldn't have noticed but that appealed to her new nature greatly.

It was the smell of blood.

She didn't think about following that trail all the way to its source. She just did. In the same manner as a moth is drawn to the flame, Satsuki followed the dark impulse that crawled up her throat. Her thoughts were completely clear, but curiosity and instinct sang as one and she heeded their call.

Moving through the foliage like the predator she had become, barely making any noise, she found herself standing before a detached building: not quite a shed nor a proper house. A traditional Japanese structure big enough to house one, perhaps two people.

The scent of blood came unmistakably from inside.

Carefully, Satsuki moved to the side of the building and peeked through a window. She promptly froze at the sight before her.

Kneeling on the tatami was none other than the maid, Kohaku. Her kimono was open, exposing the entirety of her torso. The curve of her right breast, completely naked, reflected the pale moonlight enticingly although not as much as the single drop of blood that trailed down from her other breast, where Tohno Akiha had sunk her teeth, drinking the life fluid with barely contained greed.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Her heartbeat hammered in her ears, acting as the backdrop of the soft slurping noises coming from the point of contact between Akiha's lips and Kohaku's breast.

It is difficult for a still human mind to process an inhuman impulse. The dark, twisted flame that ignited deep inside Satsuki was similar to hunger and thirst, but it held a scorching hot compulsion not unlike lust.

The scene in itself was enticing to her, and powerfully erotic, as if drawn by a masterful artist.

Satsuki could not look away. She was enraptured, hypnotized, enthralled, aroused.

The pain of her teeth biting her own lower lip roused her, and finally allowed her brain to process the entire event rationally.

She ran. With the need scratching at her throat she fled from the scene, not caring if she made any noise that might cause her to be noticed. She ran through the woods, back toward the mansion and through the window of Shirou's room.

It was empty, of course. Shirou had told her that he would have gone to investigate the hotel, so she knew he wouldn't be there. She knew, but she didn't care.

She needed him. No … the beast craved blood no matter who was the source.

Satsuki on the other hand needed Shirou, because she had no way of knowing how long she'd last against the starving beast on her own.

As of that moment she came to realize with painful clarity that things would never truly be all right again.

* * *

><p>Shirou silently followed Ciel from rooftop to rooftop. The Executor had been exceedingly vague about this mission she had in store for him. It stood to reason, since she had made it clear he was to stay out of the Dead Apostle Hunt, that this matter was completely unrelated and he couldn't imagine just what else this could be about.<p>

More importantly he couldn't believe that there was another city so stunningly similar to Fuyuki as far as bad luck went: two unwilling receptacles of overlapping tragedies. In hindsight it was no wonder the Association felt the need to appoint a supervisor over areas like this. Too bad that Misaki had such hard luck in that regard.

Maybe, if "Miss Blue" had been upholding her duties as Second Owner, there wouldn't have been so many victims. She wasn't, though, and so it was entirely useless to dwell upon it.

They made their way to a park. The area was obviously deserted, due to the late hour, with the exception of a single figure idly sitting by the fountain.

Shirou laid his eyes on a woman with silvery hair, clad in the robes of a nun. Her serene expression contrasted heavily with her sharp eyes and the bandages peeking out of her robes.

This person was not unaccustomed to being in dangerous situations, that much was certain. Not that it was surprising for anyone involved with the darkest dealings of the Holy Church.

"Caren," Ciel spoke as she approached, "this is the person I've been telling you about."

The nun, Caren, step forward into the light her eyes scanning Shirou with curiosity and a tinge of amusement.

"So this is the notorious Archer I've been hearing about. Truth be told, I had a hard time believing in the existence of a Magus who went out of his way to help Dead Apostles out of the goodness of his heart. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Emiya Shirou."

Shirou gaped and shot a glare at Ciel. The Executor glared right back but shrugged unrepentantly. Indeed, there was no agreement between them that she would keep his secret with her organization. It was only His naivety that made him assume she would.

"Now, now, there's no reason for concern, Emiya-san," Caren said as if reading their thoughts, smiling pleasantly. "I'm sure that we can agree to keep sensitive information among us, in exchange FOR a bit of cooperation on your part."

"No," Shirou replied bluntly without a moment'S pause, returning his gaze on the nun.

"No?" Caren's eyebrows rose considerably. Ciel snorted.

"No," Shirou repeated firmly, eyeing the amused Executor. "I was told you need protection. I have no objection to providing it so long as whatever you have to doesn't require me to hurt someone who hasn't got it coming. I don't care much if you reveal my identity to the Clock Tower. My principles aren't for sale, not even if you sic the Mage Association after me."

"Oh, my," the nun chuckled. "I believe an apology is in order. Ciel-san vouched for your character when she brought up your name as prospective bodyguard, but I did not quite believe without proof that the infamous Magus Killer had raised such an upstanding young man."

"You knew my father?" Shirou asked skeptically.

"Only by his extensive reputation."

"Then you didn't know him at all. Never mind, Caren-san. We aren't here to discuss my late father's reputation. What is this business you need me for?"

Caren conceded the point with a nod of her head. "Perhaps we should take this to a more private place. Ciel, could we use your apartment as a base of operation?"

The Executor licked her lips nervously.

"I'm afraid my place in currently unavailable. I have… a guest over."

Shirou saw Caren's eyes positively glow with anticipation. Whatever caused Ciel's evident hesitation was something that her colleague was looking forward to investigating for her own selfish reasons.

"Is that so? Ah, well I suppose we can get to any public establishment still open, provided that you both change into something less conspicuous."

Shirou released Twisted Embrace and the outfit retreated into its inactive state. Caren eyed the process curiously but didn't comment on it.

"There is no need for me to tag along any further," Ciel said instead. "I have no time to spare for this assignment and now that I put the two of you in contact, my job here is done. Emiya, my last warning still holds true. Don't give me a reason to come after you."

With her threat hanging in the air, Ciel jumped on a nearby street lamp and disappeared into the night leaving the barely acquainted duo to themselves.

"Is she always that caustic?" he asked was he was sure she was out of earshot.

"No, she's usually much worse during an assignment. In fact, I think she likes you."

Shirou scoffed at the absurdity of the notion. "She tried to kill me, you know."

"So she told me. If she didn't like you she would have finished what she started."

Shirou shrugged and offered no further response, opting to follow after her as she quietly left the park.

* * *

><p>They found a suitable place in a nearby karaoke. The receptionist eyed Caren's outfit briefly and dismissed it, probably thinking it a cosplay of some sort. A true nun would have no business in that place at such a late hour anyway.<p>

Having seen his share of weirdoes, he didn't comment and simply handed over the key to their room, silently thanking the heavens for the few customers he still had.

A karaoke was a prime choice for private conversations: comfortable, soundproof rooms with refreshments if needed be. They could discuss any manner of subjects without fear of being overheard.

"So, what is this all about?" he asked after ordering a round of drinks.

Ortensia extracted a folder from her bag, displaying the documents and pictures it contained.

"I assume you're familiar with this country's history?" she asked.

"As much as any other student my age, plus a bit of those particulars not exactly taught in school," Shirou clarified.

"Good," she tapped her index finger on a specific paper. "Two years ago, an excavation near the base of mount Fuji unearthed the remnants of a settlement dating back to the Sengoku Period."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume they have found something they shouldn't have," Shirou commented as he browsed through the papers. "Did something happen?"

"Not immediately, no, but several months later the members of the excavation team started suffering severe cases of… sudden death."

Still looking through the documents Shirou frowned, then cringed as he found himself staring at a picture of the desiccated corpse of a man in a business suit.

"The victims were found completely drained of their blood, which was extracted with an unknown methods. The killing wound found on the bodies was caused in every case by a single-bladed weapon which pierced the heart. Other wounds suggest the weapon is some sort of katana or a kodachi. Either way, a weapon of Japanese making is what we are looking for. "

"Witnesses?"

"None. The bodies were always found in deserted places. The victims were reported to have left their homes on their own, never to return. No particular strange event took place before or after the murders, with the single exception of one victim, whose daughter reported having a heated conversation over the phone with an unnamed colleague."

"You traced the call?"

"All the way to an old public phone," Caren nodded. "Which is very suspicious."

"Hmm," Shirou nodded. "Well-regarded scholars don't go around making important calls from phone-booths unless they don't want to have the call traced back to them."

"Precisely. That's why, without other tangible evidence, our list of suspects was narrowed to the three surviving members of the excavation team. Even if one of them isn't the culprit they are still likely his targets."

"Hmm… Professor Onuki Hitomi, her assistant Noriyasu Seta and finally Professor Shitara Shizuo. Which one is in Misaki right now?"

"That would be Professor Shitara, the head of the expedition. We're still trying to locate Professor Onuki, while Noriyasu is of no concern."

"Why?"

"He left the expedition in the beginning stages due to personal reasons. We verified that he was overseas due to a close friend's passing. He returned shortly thereafter, but was assigned to another excavation outside of Japan. Being the only member abroad, tracking his movements was easier. He was nowhere near the country at the time of the murders."

"Fair enough," Shirou shrugged in acceptance. "So our mark is Professor Shitara. Any preference on how to approach him?"

"I suggest taking the simplest way, which would be to attend his presentation tomorrow afternoon at the 'Japanese Blacksmith throughout the Ages' exposition at the local museum," she explained

Shirou remained silent.

"Is something the matter?"

"No. I was there just this afternoon. As a matter of fact I originally came to Misaki to attend that very exhibit. Well, that and hunting for a serial killer. I guess it all comes back full circle, one way or another."

"Rejoice Emiya-san," the nun smiled. "It seems that your wish will be fulfilled, after all."

Shirou shuddered. Those words rung like an accusation and he couldn't shrug off the fact that, no matter how things turned, wanting to save someone was the same as wishing that someone needed being saved. It was the ultimate paradox of his existence and one he couldn't forget.

Nonetheless, people needed saving whether he wished for it or not, so he put the matter behind him as much as he could.

An hour later, they decided to meet again the next afternoon at the museum, an hour before the presentation. Taking his mission as her bodyguard seriously from the beginning, Shirou escorted the nun to her hotel before making his way back to the Tohno mansion.

* * *

><p>Caren watched Shirou disappear behind the street corner after the taxi dropped them both in front of her hotel.<p>

She was quite amused by this recent turn of events. Although she would have preferred to work with Elesia, Caren was satisfied with the current arrangement. For one thing, knowing how stingy with praise Elesia usually was, if she said he was good enough for the job then chances are that he was even over-qualified.

Secondly, she found that she liked Emiya Shirou's character quite a bit.

Since Elesia first spoke of him she was looking forward to meeting him. There aren't many people willing to die for a complete stranger like he had done with Yumizuka Satsuki.

For someone who wore a mask and walked the path of Magi, he was unusually honest and forthcoming too. More importantly, just like her, he had a genuine wish to save people.

Although she was a member of the Holy Church, Caren didn't share their politics when it came to dealing with those who aren't human or purely human. In her eyes, all were children of God and therefore they were all to be loved equally.

Therefore, she was most interested to meet a Magus that not only didn't share his fellow practitioner's single-minded pursue of higher mysteries, but also that went out of his way to help others regardless of their nature.

Oh, she was all too aware that he was far from a saint, but at the very least he was trying his best.

Working with him, she decided, would be most interesting.

She was just about to enter when she felt something wet staining the chest of her uniform. For a moment, she didn't understand what the black liquid was, nor where did it came from. She touched her face and only then she understood that it was dripping from her nose.

"What…?

She rubbed the black thing between her fingers. It wasn't blood, that much was certain. It had a mud-like consistence and it burned lightly against her fingertips.

Then it began to fade, turning into black flakes and disappearing into the night. She turned toward the direction Shirou had left, narrowing her eyes at the empty street.

No… it wasn't possible. She had spent a good hour in his presence, and he certainly wasn't bleeding black mud from the nose. Yet there was no doubt that it was her own peculiar ability reacting to a supernatural manifestation of some sort in her proximity.

The question was: what was its source?

* * *

><p>Shirou walked toward the Tohno mansion purposely following a circuitous route, along which he accidentally stumbled upon, and subsequently eliminated, a couple of wandering Dead. He caught a glimpse of Ciel at one point, but she didn't acknowledge his presence in any way. He supposed even she wouldn't object to him taking down a Ghoul or two, so long as he didn't attempt to make a move on the Dead Apostle himself.<p>

By the time he was again in front of the Tohno estate, the horizon was showing hints of dawn.

Although he could easily enter through the back door, Shirou opted for the window once more, considering it the most safe routed to avoid the inhabitants. He barely had put both feet down from the widow-sill when he was tackled on the ground.

"Omph!" he groaned, hitting the floor hard.

He found himself pinned by the weight of Satsuki's body, who was straddling his waist while she stared down at him, breathing raggedly, face inches apart from his.

In the dimly lit room he could see only the outline of her face, as well as her wide eyes and bared teeth.

"I… I…" she stuttered.

Keeping his cool in spite of being held on the ground by a hungry vampire, Shirou placed both hands on her shoulders and pushed her back gently. She offered no resistance and sat on the ground meekly.

Without a word, Shirou projected a knife and Satsuki drew her gaze away. It mattered little, as the scent of blood reached her hypersensitive nostrils a moment later. She braced her shoulders to quell the increased trembling of her body.

"It's okay," he told her. She turned to look at him and his bleeding wrist. "Just make sure not to bite."

A moment of stunned hesitation went by, little more than a couple of heartbeats, then she grabbed his arm and brought the deep gash to her lips, lapping at the bleeding wound like a kitten with a bowl of cream.

For five long minutes, she drank wordlessly, then slowly progressively until she stopped entirely.

Silence stretched unpleasantly even after she released his arm, while Shirou shifted his weight to get up from where he was sitting on the floor. Satsuki caught him midway through that motion and the redhead fell flat on his back once more, though this time He had the face of a sobbing girl buried in his shoulder.

Satsuki cried for a long time, long enough to soak his shirt with her tears. Shirou didn't really mind. Although he felt a little embarrassed at the intimacy, an overwhelming feeling of pity filled his heart.

There was nothing he could do for her now except hold her into his arms, pat her back lightly and whisper that everything would be fine.

The sun was much higher when the sobbing was replaced by light snoring. Not daring to move from his place of the floor lest he wake her, Shirou glanced at his wristwatch. He had eight hours before he had to meet with Ortensia again so he had all the time in the world to ponder about his own predicament.

He had initially traveled to Misaki to complete a simple business transaction, attend an historical exhibition and try to apprehend a mundane serial killer while he was at it, assuming erroneously that that it wasn't an actual Dead Apostle. He was grossly mistaken, as in the culprit wasn't just any Vampire, but a powerful one at that. Worse even, there was more than one around.

That could have been it, but no, apparently when it rained it poured. As it turned out there was actually a non-Dead Apostle (probably), vampire-wannabe with a bone to pick in Misaki as he initially believed, although the circumstances were absolutely different from what he had surmised at the beginning.

Adding to the mix two emissaries from the Church, who decided to hijack his efforts as they saw fit, and he was truly and thoroughly out of this depth. Well…more so than usual anyway.

Truth be told, if he hadn't managed to save at least Satsuki he would be feeling completely and utterly useless by now. The knowledge that he found comfort in Satsuki's situation, albeit in the measure that he helped her, did nothing to assuage the sense of guilt Ortensia had drove into him earlier, with her veiled accusation.

He sighed in barely contained disgust.

He really was a piece of work, wasn't he? Surviving when others died, only to wish more people were put in danger so that he could give meaning to his own continued existence.

So much for being a hero. Perhaps he was better suited to be a villain after all?

If he weren't certain it would wake Satsuki, he would have scoffed mirthlessly at his own predicament. Although he promised Kiritsugu and himself not to follow the path of the Magus Killer, Shirou knew he was tainted nonetheless, and following his dream in spite of it was further selfishness on his part.

Then again, there was no other reason nor meaning to his life therefore, whatever the reason, he would abide by it no matter how selfish it was. Tainted for tainted, he would follow that path to the bitter end.

Having acquired a measure of peace of mind, Shirou managed to doze off in spite of Satsuki's body still resting upon his.

* * *

><p>Moon. Shining bright.<p>

A circle drawn with blood.

Trepidation.

Determination.

The will to prove himself.

'I'll make them acknowledge me,' he swore silently.

His arm was outstretched; the words on lips.

"Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Repeat five times, simply shatter once filled."

Light came from the circle. Brighter and brighter as the incantation progressed

"Come forth from the circle of constrain. Oh keeper of the balance."

The light became blinding and he fell on his back.

Before him stood a huge man, much taller than he was, with bright red hair and wearing an equally red mantle over a bronze armor.

He knew it instinctually, even before he could introduce himself, for he was now his Master.

This was Rider and together they would win the Fourth Holy Grail War.

* * *

><p>Shirou blinked awake. He didn't stir. He just opened his eyes and he was wide awake.<p>

He was still on the floor with Satsuki sleeping on him, but judging from the light coming from the window it must have been at least a couple of hours after he first fell asleep.

A dream. A very clear and vivid dream of Waver Velvet's summoning of Rider.

He had nearly forgotten that he had his memories inside his brain. Did it mean that they had finally begun to unravel? He knew memories weren't simple things to transfer. Contrary to popular belief, the mind is stored in the soul with the brain acting as an anchor to the body. Copying memories from one soul to another is not a simple task, more so processing them so that they may be usable by a different person. Similar as they may be from human to human, every soul is like a world of its own and therefore profoundly alien to one another.

Still, Rider. The King of Conquerors Iskander . He certainly looked impressive enough. He had certainly left an impression on the younger Waver.

Shirou was after the tactical information held within Waver's memories and he felt like intruding in something that was, in hindsight, a cherished memory.

Well, there was no use mulling over it. In fact, it was better if he did something else rather than lie there lazily.

Satsuki's sleep was much deeper now and Shirou felt confident enough to sit up and put her on his bed, where she continued resting after stirring briefly.

He rolled his shoulders and neck, trying to get rid of the stiffness. It worked to an extent, but unless he exercised a bit it wouldn't completely fade. Of course he couldn't just exercise in there with Satsuki sleeping, and he was forbidden to leave during the day. Well, he could go out of the mansion entirely if he so wanted, but since it was daytime it was better to avoid going back and forth needlessly.

There were other exercises he could do without making noises, though. As a matter of fact he had neglected them a bit lately. He could very well employ his free time with something useful since he didn't have anything else worth doing.

* * *

><p>When Satsuki opened her eyes she was laying on a bed. Having spent most of the previous day locked inside, she could tell this wasn't her room at the Tohno's mansion, even if the furniture was the same.<p>

The curtains were closed, keeping out most of the sunlight. Unaffected by the shadows, her eyes scanned the room, trying to make sense of where she was. She found her answer with the person sitting in a corner, cross-legged, in what appeared deep meditation, although Satsuki was fairly sure that most people didn't have luminous lines running under their skin when they meditated.

Shirou's eyes were half lidded as he stared into his lap, murmuring something under his breath. It lasted only a second, as he looked up at her and met her gaze. Seeing his golden eyes made Satsuki remember how exactly she had come to be in Shirou's room. Her face flushed slightly, although not enough to be seen in the dim light.

"Feeling better?" he asked, standing to his feet. The lines under his visible skin faded and disappeared.

Satsuki nodded. Strange, she had expected to feel awkward around him, but perhaps it was Shirou's talent to make people feel at ease around him. "Thank you," she murmured.

"You're welcome. Forgive me for asking this, but how long have you been… hungry? I mean, I assume there was a rapid buildup if you didn't mention it before I left."

"Ah, actually…, " she stuttered recalling the sight that stimulated her vampiric impulses. "Shirou… I think Akiha-san is a vampire too."

"… I beg your pardon?" he asked after a moment of pause, taken aback by the sudden revelation.

"Last night I… snuck out of my room," she explained with a bit of shame. "I just wanted to take a walk around the park. I didn't expect anyone to be there but… I stumbled into a small building and I saw… I saw Akiha-san drinking blood from the maid… Kohaku-san."

Shirou stood silently, eyes looking to the side in a pensive manner.

"It's possible," he said after a moment. "A vampire certainly needs blood to sustain its existence, but that's not the only possible reason why anyone would drink it in the Moonlit world. Blood is the most common medium to transfer energy between two living beings. I told you that the Tohno have a demonic ancestry, right? It's entirely possible that drinking blood is a necessary step to manage her condition. If anything, the fact that Akiha-san has someone willingly to provide her with the blood she needs is a relief. Besides I saw her act openly in daylight, so I'm fairly sure her condition isn't the same as yours."

"Oh," she replied after he finished her explanation. "She's not dangerous then."

"Now, I didn't say that," he chuckled. "She's the head of the Tohno conglomerate, and that isn't a position a harmless person can hope to achieve and maintain. Demonic ancestry notwithstanding, I'd rather not give her any reason to be angry with me."

"I didn't think of it like that," Satsuki admitted. "Now that you mention it, I can't believe she's a year younger than I am."

"Yes, I think she's pretty awesome," Shirou agreed, "though I don't want to image what she had to go through to reach that standard. The murder of her father couldn't have helped things either."

"… Murder?" Satsuki blinked in surprise. "But the news said he died of natural causes."

"Right, I forgot that's what the media said. Well, that's just more proof of the power of the Tohno Conglomerate that Akiha-san now controls."

"Was the world always this scary?" she asked, hugging one knees to her while her other leg dangled off the bed.

Shirou shrugged; he had no answer to give.

"Sorry if I get back on this but has your hunger been giving you any issues? Besides the obvious, I mean."

Satsuki shook her head. "Until last night I felt nothing more than a prickling in the back of my throat. I think I could have gone a bit longer if…"

"If you weren't provoked, I get it. Well, I'm unsure how good of a timeframe it is, but if it doesn't worsen then it should be manageable."

"If you say so," Satsuki replied without conviction. See couldn't be as optimist as he was. "Hey, Shirou, what it that you were doing before?"

"Hm? Oh, that. Well, perhaps knowing a bit more about Magecraft will be a good thing for you."

And so Shirou spent the next couple of hours explaining what he knew of the intricacies of Magecraft. Satsuki jumped at the chance of focusing on something that wasn't her own condition and time passed with a measure of peace.

* * *

><p>Afternoon<p>

Caren was waiting for Shirou in front of the museum. Although he was supposed to be her bodyguard she didn't expect anything to happen in a public space in broad daylight. The murderer, whoever or whatever he was acted in absence of witnesses so she was perfectly safe in public during the day.

A taxi pulled over a few meters from her and Shirou got out of it. He waved at her and approached wading though the growing crowd. She attentively examined him, and herself, as he got closer.

"Good afternoon Ortensia-san. Sorry, I'm a bit la- WHA!"

The nun had forcibly grabbed the sides of his face, and pulled him forward until their foreheads were touching.

"What are you doing?" he hissed with his face growing red from embarrassment, looking at the passersby who him turn where giving them odd looks. Caren on her part was entirely unaffected by the attention they were gathering, focusing entirely on Shirou's eyes.

"Have you been unwell recently?" she asked flatly.

"That's what I should be asking!" he whispered. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," she said releasing him. "I had to be certain."

"Of what?" he asked, adjusting his clothes.

"It's not important anymore," she shook her head. "Come now, Emiya-san, the presentation is going to start soon."

"About that, Ortensia-san," he stopped her, by grabbing her wrist. "I think it's better if we act separately."

"Oh? Why would you think so?"

"The threats to your person at this time are realistically scarce," he explained, "and whether the professor is the next victim or the culprit, we are more or less certain that the actual culprit is going to be around here at one point or another. If that's the case, it's better if they can't get a good grasp of whatever opposition they have. If you are going approach Professor Shirata at any point in time and confront him about the death of his colleagues, you are going to paint yourself as a target. In that case I'll be advantaged if the culprit doesn't expect me."

"I see," she nodded. "That's an intelligent course of action, but…"

"What?"

"I think I might have just ruined that possibility a moment ago."

"Well, it's still worth a shot either way," Shirou sighed. "Not everyone noticed our… exchange, I hope, and until either of us act suspiciously around the professor we are just two nobodies."

"It's agreed then," the nun nodded. "Still, could you please release me now? I didn't think you were the forceful sort, Emiya-san."

Shirou quickly let go of her wrist with a glare and a light blush, moving past her and into the museum. Ortensia followed after him with an amused smile.

* * *

><p>Shirata Shizuo was a man well over his forties, relatively tall by Japanese standards and with prematurely graying hair.<p>

From his position at the far end of the hall where the presentation was being held, Shirou could tell that the professor had a certain amount of charisma, that stemmed from his passion for his job and which was expressed in the way he spoke of his findings.

Admittedly, there were more people attending than Shirou would have imagined, although it was probably because of the nature of the professor's discovery. From what he could gather, the expedition had found proof of metal-forging processes that were capable of achieving a level of purity within the metals that rivaled some advanced modern methods. The discovery, per se, wouldn't bring cause to rethink history as a whole, but it raised several questions among the experts, such as why the method apparently disappeared for a long time and why it disappeared before it could spread. The prominent theory was that the turmoil of the Sengoku era and its countless conflicts cased this art to be lost to the ages.

The presentation went on for well over an hour, trying to explain the various possibilities that were in contrast with the currently known history of that period.

It was, even in Shirou's opinion, a very interesting lecture but he was unable to focus on it entirely. His interest was divided between the character of Professor Shirata himself, Caren Ortensia sitting casually with the rest of the audience and finally a man with long black hair dressed in Chinese clothing standing several meters to Shirou's left near the back wall of the room.

From his look and the way he held himself, Shirou pegged him as a martial artist of some sort. In itself that wasn't really worthy of notice, since archeologists and professors weren't the only members of the audience, but the man turned to look at Shirou every time he sensed his gaze lingering; that certainly wasn't expected from the average martial artist.

Therefore, either Professor Shirata himself or his discovery had caught the attention of a number of odd people. Who could this person be? Besides the Holy Church there were a number of groups and people who could have taken an interest in this, the murderer of Professor Shirata's colleagues being only one among them.

Well, that was also jumping to conclusions, Shirou thought privately. Although rare, there were people who didn't really fit the mold of the average human-but that wasn't an indication of guilt. Still, he would keep his eyes on this mysterious fellow while he was there.

The lecture continued for another fifteen minutes and ended with a well earned round of applauses, after which the audience started to trickle out. The man in Chinese clothing was one of the first to leave, being the closest to the exit, without giving any further acknowledgment to Shirou's persistent interest.

Shirou stayed behind. His job was to protect Ortensia, so he kept his eyes on her while she approached Professor Shirata. They exchanged words, though Shirou couldn't hear what from his position, though he saw a flicker of surprise on the professor's face. A few moments later Caren bowed and left him to his colleagues. The professor still appeared mildly surprised by having been approached by a nun, but he gave no particular signs of discomfort.

In line with their earlier decision to appear as if they weren't together, Shirou waited a couple of minutes before leaving the room as well, sparing a final glance for Shirata, who didn't appear to be aware or concerned of the dangers that clouded his life.

With the influx of visitors who attended Shirata's lecture, the halls of the museum were noticeably more crowded than the previous days. It didn't make moving particularly, difficult but there were much more people to keep track of.

He found Caren standing in front of a glass case, examining its contents. Shirou approached casually, pretending to be interested in the same piece rather than her.

"Impressions?" he asked without looking at her.

"Professor Shirata is an awful liar," she commented offhandedly.

Shirou didn't ask for further clarification. They would debrief elsewhere later, where they wouldn't be heard.

"What now?"

"Look around here for anything out of place. It's all connected to the excavation, so there could be a clue around here somewhere. We'll meet again outside in two hours."

"Got it," he acknowledged, stepping away without ever glancing at her.

Look for something out of place, she said. Shirou wasn't precisely a historian and the whole point of the exposition was about findings that were out of place, which made the entire ordeal like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Still, no better options were available for the time being and his tour the previous day had been interrupted, so he welcomed the chance to make up for lost time.

As he moved through the halls, Shirou caught sight of the man in Chinese clothes two different times, the last of which when the stranger was leaving the museum.

Well, that was one less concern for the time being. The man had been an odd presence but nothing of him betrayed any form of malice or ill intent. Shirou put him out of his mind.

As time went by, the visitors started to dwindle to the usual numbers. It was then that Shirou saw Aihara-san looking around as if in search of something or, more likely, someone.

"Good afternoon Aihara-san," he greeted as he approached her. The woman's eyes moved onto Shirou without recognizing him at first.

"Ah, Emiya-san, you're back," she smiled. "You came to attend Shirata-sensei's presentation?"

"Exactly. What about you? Are you looking for Kenta-kun again?"

"Yes," she sighed wearily. "I completely lost him in the crowd. Have you perhaps seen him, Emiya-san?"

"Can't say that I did, sorry. Do you want a hand looking for him?"

"Emiya-san, I couldn't-"

"I mean it," he cut her off. "It's no bother, really."

"Well, if insist, how can I say no," she replied bowing in gratitude. "Here, take this. It's an assistant's pass. Put it on your clothes so that the security staff won't bother you if they see you looking behind stuff."

"Ah, is this alright? I mean, you don't really know me."

"It's fine, it's fine," she waved off his concerns. "So long as you return it afterward it's not going to be a problem."

"Well, thank you then."

"No, thank you, Emiya-san. Would you please look for Kenta on the ground floor while I search for him around here? Security on the upper floor is tighter, so Kenta won't go there causing trouble."

"I'm on it," Shirou promised. "We will find him in no time, you'll see."

With that promise, Shirou went back to the ground floor in search for the missing boy. Although he had another task to fulfill, Shirou saw the opportunity as killing two birds with one stone. Unlike him, Aihara-san probably knew everything worth knowing about the museum and the current exposition. If he helped her find the little troublemaker, which was a good thing in and of itself, he could later ask a few mild questions that would simplify his mission.

Of course, that too was easier said than done. There was a reason Aihara-san was having a hard time looking for Kenta. A kid in a crowd is easy to miss, more so when he doesn't want to be found.

Shirou looked everywhere for a good half hour, catching glimpses of Kenta every now and then only to lose him immediately afterward. He tracked the rascal as much as he could without pushing bystanders out of his way, but the kid was good at hiding. It was turning out to be a fool's errand as much as the other option. At one point Shirou was sure that he had completely lost him, but then something caught his gaze, making him pause.

In the corner of the hall he was currently in there was a narrow corridor blocked by two stanchions chained together with the sign 'authorized personnel only" dangling from it. The chain, far removed from anywhere the visitors might have been wandering, was oscillating slightly, as if someone had just recently touched it.

Shirou looked at the darkened corridor, which turned abruptly to the right, precluding the sight of what was at its end. Then he looked down at the sign and immediately after at the badge on his chest. Sparing a glace to either side out of caution, Shirou stepped over and beyond the chain.

There was a grey metal door around the corner, which closed slowly as he laid his eyes upon it. Shirou pulled down the handle silently, unaware if his quarry knew he was being chased. The door opened to a dark flight of stairs that wound down beneath ground level. Shirou pushed the switch on the wall a couple of times, but no light whatsoever turned on in response.

"Creepy," he muttered under his breath. Shaking his head he stepped inside and slowly down the stairs, while behind him the doors automatically swung close with a clack.

With his back against the wall, more out of habit that any conscious thought for caution, the redhead slid down the stairs slowly, giving his eyes time to adjust to the little illumination provided by the emergency lights.

He found himself into a storeroom, filled with big wooden crates, some of them open and clearly empty, piled up seemingly at random. An unpleasant smell of mold and rot drifted up his nose and made him frown. Even if it was just a storeroom for empty crates, Shirou expected better conditions from a museum.

He pushed that thought aside as it was honestly none of his business. He was looking for a kid and this maze wasn't going to make it any easier for him.

Carefully, trying to make a little noise as possible, he begun searching around and inside the crates. He wasn't sure whether Kenta knew that Shirou was looking for him, and therefore whether he was actively hiding or not.

TUNK!

A loud metal noise echoed somewhere close. Too close to be the door he came in from.

TUNK! TUNK!

The same noise again in two rapid bursts. Shirou forwent stealth and ran toward the source, finding Kenta trying to open a worn out metal door that led to the boiler room, according to the sign stamped on it.

"Why is it locked?" the young boy wondered aloud, failing to notice Shirou approaching from behind.

"Probably to keep brats out," Shirou whispered in the boy's ear, simultaneously putting a hand on his shoulder.

Kenta didn't jump out of his skin, but only because he was being held down. He did, however, let out a blood-curling scream that made even Shirou wince.

"Wha-wha-wha-wha…" the boy stuttered in shock, shakingly turning his head to look at Shirou. "Don't do that! W-wait, you are that villain from yesterday."

"Villain?" Shirou blinked owlishly as Kenta slipped out of his hold.

"AH! You made your last mistake fiend. You're going down!" he declared reaching for his toy bow and suction-cup arrows.

Shirou smiled bemusedly, deciding to indulge the kid's antics, and tilted his head out of the projectile's path and catching another in midair with his fingers, silently observing that Kenta did have good aim.

"How are you doing that?" the boy asked with equal parts amazement and frustration, shooting yet another arrow at the redhead.

"The arrows of a fake hero like you will never reach me," Shirou said darkly with a twisted smile, playing the role of the villain and approaching his retreating target.

"F-fake hero?" the boy stuttered in outrage. "I'll show you who's a fake hero."

The boy tossed away his useless bow and charged at Shirou with a roar and swung his fists at the redhead. This, of course, failed to connect as Shirou planted a hand of Kenta's forehead to keep him out of reach.

After a solid minute of futile swinging, the youth was finally out of breath.

"You done yet?"

"Damn you, don't look down on me."

"Eh, that's kind of difficult for me when I'm standing up."

More pointless swinging of fists voiced Kenta's protest to Shirou's remark about his height.

"Now that you got that out of your system, how about going back to Aihara-san?"

"No way," Kenta protested, short of breath. "She's the final boss' lieutenant. If she gets her hands on me there'll be no one left to fight against evil."

Shirou give an inaudible sigh. Even at his worse he was never that bad with the hero bravado. Then again, he didn't have to make up stories about mysterious evils. He knew plenty enough as it were.

"So? At your level there might as well be no one left fighting. You couldn't even hit me at close range."

"T-that doesn't count! The Optional Boss is usually stronger than the rest."

Optional Boss, Shirou mused, was a title he didn't have yet. Better not let Medea or Tohsaka know or he wouldn't hear the end of it. Optional Boss, indeed.

"How about it, this Optional Boss will give you a few tips for that bow of yours and in exchange you'll stop giving Aihara-san a hard time for a while. Consider it as making them, whoever they are, believe you went over to their side and then you'll hit them when they less expect it."

"… Hey, that sounds like a good plan," Kenta observed appreciatively. "As expected from a great villain. Wait a moment though, are you any good with bows?"

Shirou chuckled "How about we find out, hm?"

Fifteen minutes later Kenta had learned a couple of basic things about practical marksmanships such as aiming at where his target would be as opposed to where they were. It seemed to be enough to break through the boy's shell, and he warmed up to his former nemesis.

"Hey, Aniki," Kenta said as the climbed up the stairs.

"Aniki, is it now?" Shirou asked. "Guess I got promoted."

"How comes you know so much about archery anyway?" Kenta continued unperturbed.

"Hm? I'm the captain of the Archery club at my school, back in Fuyuki city."

"F-Fuyuki? Seriously? Did you ever… did you ever see Archer, you know, the real one?"

"I caught a glimpse of him," -in a mirror-, "a couple of times. He didn't stay for a chat though."

"That's so awesome. I want to meet him some day."

"Well, you never know what could happen in life."

"Emiya-san, did you… Kenta!" Aihara-san exclaimed as she came to meet them on the first floor. "There you are. Do you have any idea how much trouble are you giving everyone, you little rascal?"

"Feh!" the boy scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "A hero has no time with such petty concerns."

"A hero," Shirou intervened squeezing Kenta's shoulder, "shouldn't make people worry needlessly."

"But, Aniki…"

"Aniki?" Aihara asked, glancing between the two of them.

"Remember our deal, now," Shirou winked at him, unseen by Aihara. "You won't go back on your promise, right?"

"Fine…," Kenta said resignedly. "I'll behave. I'll go back to your office, Nee-san."

"N-nee-san?" the woman choked in disbelief as she watched the boy leave, at a quiet pace for a change. "Emiya-san, please tell me what you said to him to make him behave like that?"

Shirou shrugged. "I've been through that phase once. Not quite as bad, but I still can relate to him somewhat."

"I guess boys will be boys," she replied, rubbing her temples. "Maybe I'm just not the person he needs."

"You aren't his mother," Shirou agreed, "but you genuinely care for him. I don't think that there are other requirements besides that, Aihara-san."

"I… thank you, Emiya-san. Your help has really been invaluable."

"Glad to be of assistance."

"Well, I think we both deserve a break after this errand. Please, allow me to treat you."

"That's not really necessary."

"I insist. Not once but twice have I bothered you, now. Please, it wouldn't feel right if I didn't repay you somehow."

"Well, if I can't really convince you otherwise…"

* * *

><p>Nothing. As far as Caren could tell there was nothing really anomalous about professor Shitara, besides lying badly about not knowing of his colleagues disappearance, which was of public knowledge. The discovery of their corpses, however, was a carefully concealed piece of information-especially considering their state of unexplained mummification. No mundane means had been able to explain how the bodies were turned into such a condition, and that oddity was what made one of the Church's sleeper agents within the law enforcement flag the case to their attention.<p>

Although her talent lied with living beings, she had been able to pick up a lingering maliciousness about the mangled corpses, and as such she had been assigned the task to determine what sort of heresy was at its root.

The current theory was that Shirata's group had unearthed something even more peculiar than what his presentation let on, whether they knew it or not, and that caused someone or something to go after them. It wasn't unheard of, or even just rare for that matter. Resting places often held lingering curses or entities that struck those who perturbed their rest.

That was the reason why she had been sent specifically. Although it came at the cost of great personal pain, for which she cared little, she was uniquely suited for the task of tracking such unnaturalness.

Yet, Shitara himself had no trace of such malice on himself. The man had lied, yes, but he could have feigned ignorance to protect himself. Even if the deaths of the archeologists wasn't known to the general public, it didn't take a genius to figure out that there was a nefarious intent behind their sudden and unexplained disappearances.

As the last surviving members of his party, Shirata was likely to be either the next victim or the culprit, but there was no proof of him being the latter aside from being still alive. It wasn't yet something anyone could hold against him.

Of course she had omitted sharing this knowledge with her impromptu bodyguard, so as to not sway his own personal view in the matter. What she needed, besides protection, was another set of eyes with their unbiased view of the case, and his usefulness as co-investigator would have been diminished if he too relied on her talents.

Therefore they were still at square one, without a single clue as to where to look next, so she prayed that Emiya was having better luck than she did.

As expected, God heard and provided that she wasn't surprised when she saw him in the company of one of the staff members, chatting amiably, while sporting a staff's badge of his own.

Their eyes met briefly and she gave him the faintest nod, acknowledging that their roles had suddenly switched and that she was now the secret observer while he took the front line of the investigation.

She followed them at a distance to the relaxation area of the museum, where they sat at a table. Caren herself took a seat at the table directly behind the woman, with her back turned to them so that she could listen in without being obvious.

Hopefully the woman would give them something to work with.

* * *

><p>It was a given that Shirou didn't mind listening to other people's problems and concerns, but it was somewhat annoying paying attention to mundane concerns while his mind was worried with more pressing concerns; even if it was necessary to his task.<p>

When it came down to it, Shirou was a hands-on approach guy.

He was currently sipping a cup of tea at the relaxation area, drinking in silence. Or rather, Shirou was silent while Aihara-san talked about the management of the museum and how difficult it was to keep everything in proper order, especially with a child like Kenta to watch over. Despite her words being of frustration at the boy's antics she was obviously very fond of him. It reminded him of his relationship with Taiga, with the roles being inversed.

"Thank you for listening, Emiya-san," she finally said. "I don't know what came over me. I'm not usually this chatty, especially with a man I barely know. I must have been building it up for some time."

"That's quite alright."

"But enough talking about me. What university do you attend Emiya-san? Oh," she said seeing his dumbstruck expression, "did I put my foot in my mouth again perhaps? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I thought you were still student by your age."

"I am a student alright," Shirou he laughed. "In fact, I'v just begun my second year in high school."

Aihara-san's mouth hung open as she looked at him all over once again.

"T-then you are…"

"Fifteen. Going on sixteen if that helps any," he provided helpfully, still smiling. "Do I really look that much older?"

"Oh, dear," Aihara-san replied baffled, a faint hue of embarrassment on her cheeks. "No, in fact I thought you looked a bit young, but you behaved so composed earlier and you are much, ah, stockier and taller than the average high-schooler that I assumed…"

As a matter of fact, Shirou considered, he was taller than the average Japanese fifteen year-old and he had developed a firm musculature that was just as unusual, except maybe for the most hardcore members of some sport related school clubs. Of course, he wouldn't call himself 'composed' as Aihara-san had put it. In fact he considered himself quite the passionate person in many regards. However he had been trained not by one, but by two assassins, one of which was a Magus, to keep his cool under all circumstances. Still, this was the first time someone had mistaken his age by such a margin.

"I lead a healthy lifestyle," he offered amicably.

"I… I imagine," she said eyeing him over. "Oh, dear. I keep making a fool out of myself. I'm not usually like this."

"Don't worry, I have been told that I'm of the unusual sort."

"I'd say," she agreed. "If you don't mind me asking, Emiya-san, why are you not at school right now?"

"Ah, I there was a family business I had to see ot here in Misaki, so I had to take a few days off from school."

"You're not from here?"

"I'm from Fuyuki, actually."

"Ah. So your visits these past two days were a matter of happenstance?"

"Pretty much, yes. I developed a certain interest in history lately, so I was able to combine business with pleasure."

"I see. Say, Emiya-san, how much interested in history are you really?"

"Very much so, Aihara-san."

"Well, then I guess that as repayment for you help today, I could give you a sneak peek of the new collection on the fourth floor," she said with a wink.

"Isn't that closed to the general public?" Shirou asked concealing his interest. 'Score', he thought thought privately.

"Yes, but you are a member of the staff for today, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am," he replied, toying with the staff badge still pinned to his chest.

They stood up, and Shirou gave a meaningful glance at Caren who had been listening in on them the whole time. She did not make a move to follow, as there was no way she could do so unnoticed.

She tapped her table twice, signaling that she would wait for him there, a public place with lots of people was relatively safe even with vampires and assassins on the loose.

* * *

><p>'Good,' Caren thought sipping a cup of tea of her own while she watched the duo leave for the elevators. 'Emiya-san is onto something.'<p>

Ultimately, it was obvious that the solution to this case lay with Shirata's excavation. The more they knew about it, the sooner they would be able to wrap this up and spare innocent lives.

Ciel hadn't been mistaken when she put Emiya-san's name forward. He was resourceful in a manner she thoroughly approved of. Most of her colleagues were inclined to kill first and ask questions later, which she found hard to deal with. For someone who yearned for everyone's salvation, a partner like Emiya-san was the best she could hope for.

All she had to do now was trust him and wait for his return. Fortunately, faith was not something she was in short supply.

* * *

><p><em>Ding<em>.

The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and Shirou along with Aihara-san found himself in front of a set of large wooden doors.

The woman picked a key card form her pocket and swiped it on the terminal by the doors, punching in a set of numbers on the keypad, causing the doors to unlock with a loud clack.

"Emiya-san," she said grabbing both doors' handles and pushing them open as one. "Welcome to the Hall of Armors."

The name, Shirou though flabbergasted, was quite fitting.

Three rows of ten armors for each side of the room, placed on three stands of increasing height, loomed on the visitors that set foot into the room.

"These… are all these armors from Shirata-sensei's excavation?"

"Correct. We haven't disclosed it to the general public yet, because Shirata-sensei wanted to put more focus on the metal forging process they discovered, but in truth his excavation has been one of the most bountiful in history."

"What were so many armors doing in a single place? Was it a military settlement?"

"As a matter of fact, we don't know. There is no recording of any settlement in the area in any of the documents we possess of the era: nothing to justify so many resources in a single place. We believe it had been a settlement of blacksmiths and their families, gathered together to develop this technique we found traces of."

"What happened to them?" he asked as he examined each piece of armor with keen interest.

"We don't know yet. The village had been burned to the ground, but we found a single human body among the remnants."

"An attack from the outside?"

"It's unlikely. We are inclined to believe that this group of blacksmiths… split up at some point and that they tried to destroy every trace of their work."

"How did all this survive, then?" he gestured at the armors.

"Ah, that's the interesting part. That human body I said we found? It was in an underground room locked from the inside but blocked with a pile of rocks from the outside Our best guess is that this one person didn't want to give up on this research and blocked himself inside with his creations, and that his former colleagues buried him inside before burning down everything else."

"They killed him by burying him alive?" Shirou asked, eyes wide.

"They buried him alive alright, but that's not what killed him. He died from a wound to the heart, self inflicted with the sword we found still buried in his chest."

"… Where is that sword now?"

Aihara inclined her head toward the end of the end of the hall, where a piece of cloth was covering the rectangular shape of a glass case.

"May I…?"

"Of course."

Shirou walked up to the case and slowly pulled away the cloth, revealing what lay underneath. A thick bead of sweat made its way from his frowning eyebrows.

A sleek, black blade, with an equally black hilt, reflected the sunlight light ominously. A single kanji was grafted at its base, where the blade met the hilt.

'Hina'

"The Hina Blade," Aihara-san said behind him, "that's how it's called."

Shirou gulped, forcing himself not to turn and look at Aihara-san least he betray his inner turmoil. Did she know? This blade was…

"Strange," he said with a steady voice that surprised even himself. "Black isn't a common color for a sword."

"Another mystery to solve, in fact. We don't know how the color was obtained yet. It didn't affect the purity of the metal, yet it's not a pigment."

"I see. Thank you for this opportunity Aihara-san. I learned a lot."

"Not at all. It was a pleasure to share my work and passion with someone who appreciates it."

"I think I've taken advantage of your hospitality far too long. I should go."

"Will you come visiting again before going back to Fuyuki, Emiya-san? "

"I will, Aihara-san. I most certainly will."

* * *

><p>Caren heard the sound of the elevator coming back not fifteen minutes after Emiya had left. The duo walked back out and Emiya parted ways with the woman from the staff.<p>

He was smiling while they spoke their goodbyes, but his smile melted away as soon as he turned his back. Emiya's face was set into a firm line as he walked past Caren, eyes meeting again for the briefest moment.

The nun paid the bill and went after the redheaded Magus.

She found him at the corner of the street, waiting for the light to turn green in order to cross. She walked by his side.

"Found something?" she asked.

"Aihara-san told me an interesting tale today. The tale of a man betrayed by his peers who took his own life in a dark, cold prison, surrounded by the creations he sought to protect with his own life. How does that sound to you?"

"Like the beginning of a ghost story."

"Yes, I..," Shirou turned to look at her and stopped mid-speech. "What happened to you? Are you hurt?"

"Uh?" Caren raised her hand to her face, where Emiya's was staring. There was a trickle of blood dribbling down her nose, not from her nostrils but from a thin cut across the bridge.

"Emiya-san I… have not been exactly forthcoming with you."

"What do you mean?"

"I have an… emphatic ability that mirrors upon my body all the wounds and pains suffered by a person possessed by an external entity, particularly demons. It's called 'Masochistic Pneumatic Automatism Diathesis', and it gets stronger the closer I am to the afflicted."

"You mean that wound on your nose is…"

"Yes, I believe so," she confirmed. "Emiya-san, if what you found is true then there is a person who's being manipulated into killing, probably even without their knowledge. I thought Shirata-sensei could be the one, but my ability did not react in his presence. Have you seen anyone with visible bleeding wounds around today."

"No," Shirou answered immediately. Of course he would take notice of someone of a bleeding person. "No one besides you. Wait, is that why you grabbed my face earlier?"

"That's not important right now. Emiya, if a person was able to make a grudge survive through the centuries with enough power to manipulate someone against their will, then this curse must have latched onto something physical; an item with a strong relation to the caster. Have you-"

"Yes, I have," he replied anticipating her line of thought. "And that's our problem. Aihara-san showed me a sword earlier, one of the most cursed things I ever seen. The sword that the betrayed blacksmith used to take his own life in grief."

"Then that's most like our-"

"No. Ortesia-san, listen, I too posses an emphatic ability, geared toward blades, and I know without a doubt the sword on the fourth floor is indeed a cursed thing that has been bathed in blood during its very forging process. The problem is… it's a fake."

"A fake? But…"

"A masterfully done fake, as a matter of fact: a perfect replica…but still, just a replica. That's not the sword they say they found at the excavation site. Somebody took the true blade and made a nearly indistinguishable fake, identical in every aspect except its history, to put in its place."

"Doesn't your ability tell you who it was?"

"Urashima. That's the name of the person who made the fake blade that I was able to glean from the sword itself. However, that is also the name of the person who made the other items on that floor, items that are not fake. Do you get what I mean?"

"The spirit of the blacksmith has already taken over, and it's covering its tracks."'

"Or more simply it's doing what it was prevented to do in life: practice a cursed art that needs the life of the unwilling."

"We need to find the afflicted, Emiya-san. It's the only way to stop this."

Shirou nodded resolutely.

They had a clear objective now; yet, they weren't even remotely close to figure out where to look. The more time it took them to find the culprit, the more lives would be lost.

It was a price that neither of them was willing to pay.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Sorry for being late with this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.

Now, in this chapter you might have recognized characters and circumstances from series that don't belong with the Nasuverse. If you did recognize them, then I want you to know they are exactly what the they seem to be, but don't consider them any more than shout-outs at this point of the story. If you did not recognize them, don't worry. When the time comes for them to be relevant I'll explain things in detail.

As usual my gratitude goes to my awesome RavingScholar, who delivered us this chapter free of errors.

Thank you all.


	30. That Which Bleeds (III)

**That Which Bleeds (III)**

* * *

><p><em>The sun disappeared beneath the horizon, and the city of Misaki fell prey to the darkness once more.<em>

_The blaring liveliness of the day trickled out like blood from an open wound and dried out, leaving behind an empty, dried out husk._

_It was at such times that darkness came to a life of its own. Away from prying eyes, creatures that defied human comprehension clashed against one another and after centuries of intermmitent struggle, one was finally laid to eternal rest._

_Three people remained breathing: an inhuman monster; a monster who had just regained her humanity; and lastly, a human boy with eyes that could see things that no man should ever see._

_This wasn't the end to their story. In fact it was just the first tentative step of a group that, in their later years, would make the creatures of the night quiver in terror._

_But this is not that story, or even solely their own._

_This is the story of three similar people. Three people who, like the others, were seeking something in the night._

_People that would eventually make the night quiver at their passing just the same._

_For the purpose of this tale, the entire cast can be divided into three categories: those who know, those who don't know and those who are unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of the things they were better off not knowing._

_Yumizuka Satsuki was unmistakably part of the latter: a high school girl, average in every aspect, from grades to looks and everything in between._

_How did such an average person come to be a vampire? It's a long story that can be summed up with the words 'foolishness of youth'._

_Young people, everyone knows, are prone to making mistakes. Worse yet, they are prone to repeating them. As such, for the second time it her life, Yumizuka Satsuki found herself with her back to a wall and a blade at her throat. Some people, it seems, just can't get a break._

_Isn't it sad?_

* * *

><p>There was a car parked in a dark alley in the middle of Misaki. There was nothing peculiar about the vehicle itself, except for the fact that it was stolen.<p>

Safe from prying eyes, right behind his car, Shirou equipped his Mystic code and waited by the rear exit of Caren's hotel for the nun to be ready for their nighttime operations. An outfit with a long skirt, while appropriate for a nun wasn't exactly suited for moving rapidly and more importantly stealthily. Good thing she could see the wisdom of dressing appropriately, Shirou thought.

The poor idiot didn't know the first thing about that.

"I'm ready," Caren said, walking out of the door

"Good timing," Shirou replied while putting his bow and quiver into the backseat, his back turned to her. He closed the door and turned around. "I got us a ca -BUH!" The redhead promptly choked on his own saliva at the sight of Caren.

"Is something the matter?" the nun asked with an innocence that belied her amusement.

"You forgot the bottom part!" Shirou frantically waved his finger at her while covering his eyes with the other hand, forcing himself not to shout those words.

Caren looked down at her own outfit. A high collared, long sleeved, form fitting shirt with coattails... and little more. The lower part of her body was covered only by panties (or something that looked like them), pantyhose and shoes. The look was completed with a cap on her head and a crucifix on her neck.

"No, everything is in order," she said in a monotone voice.

"Are you insane?" Shirou hissed, still hiding behind his fingers. "Why would a nun go around looking like that?"

"It's easy to move in," she told him closing the hotel's door behind her. "Also, as you can attest for yourself, it is cause for distraction."

Shirou, begrudgingly, admitted to himself that she was correct. Not that it made him feel any better.

"Believe me," she continued, tone even, "I get no enjoyment from this."

Shirou peered through his fingers and stared squarely at her eyes.

"Really? I was under the impression you enjoy troubling me, Ortensia-san."

"... No. I would never do such a thing," the nun under accusation said, looking away with a shifty look.

"You might want to work on your lying skills," he sweat-dropped.

"Enough foolishness, Emiya-san. Let us go. The night is not getting any younger."

"Alright, but we aren't done with this subject."

The car sped away into the night with Shirou at the wheel. Looking at the road spared him the temptation of looking elsewhere. Where in the world could she have gotten that attitude, Shirou didn't want to find out. Curse her parents for bringing up such a devious woman.

* * *

><p>A subdued sneeze rang out in a chapel nearly devoid of people.<p>

"Coming down with a cold at this time of year, Kirei?" the King of Heroes idly asked as he swirled a glass of wine. "How undignified of you."

"I'll go see a physician if it keeps up," the priest conceded, wiping his nose with a handkerchief. He couldn't afford to be sick with a Holy Grail War about to begin. Having to pass on his duties and his amusement because of a common cold was not acceptable at all.

Still, why did she just come to mind? Unpleasant memories should not come forth unannounced.

* * *

><p>There was almost no light in the building. The only sources were the moonlight and the computer screen in front of her.<p>

Aihara Haruka was tired. It had been a very long day. The new exhibition needed to be arranged properly before being opened to the public. Historical artifacts required proper handling and care, but not so much as a hyperactive ten year old. By the end of the day, it was a wonder how she could keep her eyes open.

But at least she did things she loved to do and that included being both a historian and Kenta's caretaker. For all the kid's faults, he had a way of growing on people.

Now, if only his father saw it that way too. Haruka had a great deal of respect for Kenta's dad, but not as far as parenting went. It wasn't like she didn't understand where he was coming from, but still...

At least Kenta had her to watch over him. Not that he seemed to appreciate it in the slightest, that rascal.

She sighed. Her train of thought was completely out of focus. She could no longer concentrate on her work like that. Might as well call it a day.

She turned off her terminal, grabbed her purse and made to leave.

The museum was completely empty at that hour of the evening. All employees had left a long time ago and security was completely automated nowadays.

Thinking about it, that was pretty bad. Even with her car just outside she felt a little bit afraid with that serial killer around. Well, she didn't think a murderer would wait for a potential victim around a museum that had technically closed hours before just in case someone worked after-hours.

Haruka always prided herself on being a rational person, so that thought was enough to put her at ease. Well, that and the pepper spray she kept in her purse. A woman had to be careful, no matter the era.

**_-!_**

Haruka stopped mid-step. For a moment she thought she had heard something. ... No, her ears were playing tricks on her.

**_thump!_**

Or not...

_'Calm down, Aihara Haruka,_' she told herself. '_Someone left a window open. Wouldn't be the first time.'_

Steadying her breath, she went looking for the source of the noise, promising herself that the next day she would chew out the person responsible for this oversight.

* * *

><p>Shirou's discretely borrowed car, as he put it, pulled over by the sidewalk, engine sputtering as he turned it off.<p>

"It should be right past the corner," Caren said, getting out and motioning for Shirou to follow.

In the end, the only known living person with a connection to the excavation was Shirata-sensei.

Thus, the duo agreed that the only thing they could do was to get their hands on his journals about the excavation, hoping to find a clue that would set them on a path to the murderer.

As such, breaking into Shirata's house at night was the way to go. It was for this reason that they traveled to the outskirts of the city in the middle of the night.

Shirata's place didn't have anything on the Tohno's mansion, of course, but it was evident that the esteemed professor was quite well off financially.

An old looking, western style building with two floors with a big garden and a pond stood before them. Nice enough, if not for the unkempt state it was in. The place had seen better days, obviously. In fact, the whole mansion looked like it needed a lot of maintenance. It didn't have quite the haunted look yet, but a 'for sale' sign on the sturdy metal gate wouldn't have looked out of place.

Then again, it wasn't surprising. A successful archeologist wasn't home all that often. Still, he could have at least hired a gardener. The place had the potential to be nice, if not beautiful. A pity to see it wasted like that.

"Any ideas how to get inside?" Caren asked, looking at the sturdy metal gate and the brick wall.

"As a matter of fact," the masked vigilante said. "May I?" Shirou asked, motioning with his hand toward her. Caren tilted her head curiously and nodded.

He wrapped an arm behind her shoulder and one behind her knees. A sudden burst of acceleration later they were above and beyond the wall, landing softly on the other side.

The moment they touched ground, they were on the move. Hollow footsteps echoed through the garden. Rustled grass and plants were left in their wake but otherwise they moved with the silent coordination of a unified purpose.

They reached the wall of the mansion and Shirou motioned for Caren to wait.

**"Trace on,**" he muttered under his breath. "Structural Grasping, set. Reviewing blueprints, done. Trigger, off."

Caren tilted her head curiously, an unspoken question in her eyes.

"There's no one inside," Shirou explained. "There's an alarm but I can disable it easily."

"No one at this time of the night?" the nun asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"I'm positive. Come on, there's an unlocked window in the back."

After disabling the alarm by over-Reinforcing some of its components through the walls, they sneaked inside from the aforementioned window.

"Alright, let's take a look around," Caren decided, receiving an affirmative nod from Shirou.

Five minutes into their search and they both realized something.

"No one has been living here for at least a couple of weeks," the redhead concluded.

"I concur, but if Shirata-sensei hasn't been staying in his own home where does he go at night, and for what reason?"

"Hiding from something?" Shirou suggested.

"Or he has something to hide," the nun countered. "Let's see if we can find something about his current whereabouts."

They searched the first floor of the house as carefully as they could, but there was no clue as to where Shirata had been spending his nights and days.

"Emiya-san, come here for a moment."

Shirou closed the drawer he was searching through and reached Caren.

"Found something?"

"Don't you notice something out of place, Emiya-san?"

"No, dust aside everything appears to be in order."

"The walls, Emiya-san. Look carefully."

"What about them? ... You're right. All the frames have been removed," he noticed seeing the faint marks left on the walls. There were several spots where something used to hang, but they had all been removed. Even in all the other rooms on the ground floor the situation was the same.

"Here's a theory," he said, rejoining Caren in the living room, "Shirata-sensei is in the middle of moving out, and he's currently staying at his new residence. He only managed to move the easy stuff because he's busy with work or he plans to sell the furniture along with the house."

"A likely theory," Caren nodded." We'll consider it the best-case scenario. On that note, Emiya-san, in your experience how many times has best scenario turned out to be the case?"

Shirou breathed deeply, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest, as if trying to recall such a time.

"Point taken," he concluded, finding none. "Back to looking through personal stuff it is."

The ground floor turned out to be devoid of any relevant clues, and they moved to the first floor.

"I'll look through Shirata-sensei's study. See if you can find anything of relevance in any of the other rooms."

The study was moderately big, with shelves of books lining the walls. The place appeared to have been unused for more time than the rest of the house. In fact, it looked like it hadn't been in use for a decade, judging from the amount of dust and spider webs everywhere. Well, there was little chance to find something about recent facts in there, but in order to be really thorough about something, no possibility could be disregarded on hastily made assumptions.

Shirou sat at the desk and sifted through old notes, written in ink faded from time-nothing besides academic notes in there. He tried the drawers and found them mostly filled with junk. The last drawer however, was solidly locked.

"Ah hell, this is for your sake too, Shirata-sensei," Shirou said apologetically, forcing the drawer open with a crack of broken wood.

"Bingo?" he wondered picking up what looked like an old journal.

Shirou picked it carefully with his glowed hand and began reading through it.

It wasn't a record about an excavation. Rather, it was Shirata-sensei's personal journal, and by a quick glance at the dates, it was at least twenty years old and filled with sporadic entries to around twelve years before.

_'Well, not exactly what I was hoping for,'_ Shirou mused sourly, flipping through pages of Shirata's neat handwriting.

_'I start this journal in the event that I forget myself ever again,'_ it read on the first page. _'I don't recall anything that happened to me in the past fourteen years, assuming that's my actual age. Who I am, where I came from, all of that is lost to me. '_

Shirou's eyebrows went up. He didn't know anything about Shirata being an orphan, or an amnesiac one for that matter. Not that it had any relevance to the investigation, but still!

He flipped forward, skimming the pages for useful information. As it turned out, Shirata was afraid of losing his memories again, so he noted down the most important events of his life. Although he seemed to have lived a successful and relative happy life, he was obsessed with finding his own past. His interest in history, it seemed, stemmed from it. Finding things long forgotten became his calling, although his own past kept eluding him.

There was then an entry date two years after the last, the longest span of time between one entry and another.

_'I've been too caught up with the past,'_ it read: an abrupt change from his previous, powerfully driven speeches about finding the truth. _'I met someone today, someone different, and for the first time the future seems to finally hold something for me as well.'_

Shirata Shizuo had fallen in love. The entries after that were even more sporadic. The young professor had something else to occupy his thoughts, it seemed.

Then things appeared to have changed sharply once more. Near the end of the journal the quality of the calligraphy took a sharp turn for the worse.

_'She's gone,'_ Shirou read with some difficulty. _'He took her away from me. Unforgivable! Unforgivable! Unforgivable!'_

A chill went up Shirou's spine, and he sat straighter in the chair, continuing to read.

_'He looks at me with her eyes. His cries are driving me crazy. I have get out of here.'_

There were more scrambled notes, difficult to read as they were written with an erratic hand.

_'He grows with each passing day, looking more and more like her. He calls my name in the middle of the night. I can't sleep. It's becoming hard to focus during the day. I have to do something.'_

Again the pages became jotted with nonsensical writings of _'not having a future'_ and _'only the past matters,'_ before it regained a modicum of sense.

_'He follows me around. Everywhere I go in this house he comes after me. Except in here. He knows better than that. Even as I write I can feel him just outside the door, waiting for me to leave. I'll have to wait for him to leave.'_

Ripped pages and more and more illegible handwriting. Stains of what Shirou thought to be alcoholic drinks marred the pages here and there. In the wake of his wife's passing, it seemed, the esteemed professor had returned to his old passions in some very bad company.

_'I can't stay in here anymore. Everything reminds me of her. For the first time in my life I wish I could forget. I decided to leave, to stay away as much as I can. I took away all the pictures. He might have taken my future, but I won't give him anything else.'_

Another pause of several pages.

_'There's nothing I can do now but to confine him here. I'll arrange to have him watched, just in case. God only knows what he would do if I were to leave him unsupervised. No doubt he would get out and come looking for me again. I can't have that. Fortunately, I know the right person for the job. I won't return to this place ever again. There's nothing left here but sorrowful memories and that cursed thing. My work will keep me busy, at least. Hopefully busy enough that I won't think about her and the monster who took her.'_

There was nothing else written past that point, and Shirou was left with even more questions than before. The journal was very old. Whatever this murderer, this... monster was had nothing to do with the recent excavation. Could they have misinterpreted the situation to some degree? Was there more than one monster? Or was it that the monster that had haunted the professor had finally found a means to get at him again? And if that was the case, where was this monster now?

**_THUMP! CRASH!_**

"Ah!" a cry echoed from the corridors.

"Caren!" in panic, Shirou bolted out of his seat and out of the room. If there were actually a monster inside this mansion...

"Over here," Caren voice called, sounding calm. She was standing at the end of a corridor, right behind a corner, looking completely unharmed.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, dusting her clothes. "I just tried to open this ladder to the attic, but it was stuck. It opened all of a sudden and I fell. Sorry if I startled you."

"It's okay," he sighed in relief. "On the other hand I found something that might complicate things," he told her, handing over the journal. "I'll check the attic while you read."

Shirou climbed the ladder and peered through the hole. The attic was dusty, as expected. There was nothing inside that drew the eye except... was that a photo album? He reached and grabbed it.

"Found something?"

"I might just have," he replied, climbing back down. "Did you know Shirata-sensei was married?"

"I know he's a widower, yes. His wife was listed as having passed from natural causes. Beyond that, I know little."

"Any other relatives?"

"I couldn't say. Our intel department looked through his family, but I wasn't forwarded anything of notice."

"Well, as it turns out, Shirata has a son," Shirou said, turning the photo album so that Caren could see the last picture in it. It was of a woman in a hospital bed, smiling at the camera while she held a bundle in her arms.

"Is this really Shirata's son, though?" she asked. "This journal doesn't seem to mention children at any point. And what's this about a monster living in here?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I detected nothing unnatural in here. This house only looks creepy. All I know for certain is that there isn't anyone else in here beside us. Hasn't been for a long time."

"I agree on that front, but Shirata was scared of something."

"Scared? I think he was more resentful than anything else. We're missing a critical piece here, Ortensia-san. We must... huh?"

A piece of paper fell from the photo album. Shirou picked it up and turned it around. Three figures were pictured in bight pastel colors: two big and a smaller one. Each had a word written above them. Shirou read them, and felt the hair of the back of his head stand up.

* * *

><p>Nothing. From the ground to the fourth floor there wasn't a single window or door that wasn't perfectly shut.<p>

Maybe she was really hearing things, Haruka concluded, or maybe the noise came from outside in the first place.

Ah well, better safe than sorry.

She backtracked all the way to the entrance and was almost at the door when…

**_THUMP!_**

She stopped again.

All right. She definitely hadn't imagined that, and it definitely didn't sound like it came from outside the building.

Still, she had checked just about anywhere except... the basement.

_'No,'_ she decided, _'I'm not doing this.'_

On a scale from one to ten on Haruka's Scale of Creepiness, a dark basement at night complete with unidentified noises ranked a solid fifteen. No way she was setting foot in there.

_**THUMP!**_

But what if it was something like a valve from the heating system leaking? That could start a fire. A leak in the water pipes could raise the humidity in the building, ruining some of the artifacts. Was it worth risking because of her irrational fears?

The basement was the least dangerous place of all. It had no access to the outside, so it wasn't like anyone could have snuck in there. As an adult, rational woman from the 21st century, she couldn't allow superstitious fears make her overlook her responsibilities.

She sighed and turned around.

The door to the basement was locked, as it should be, but she had her own key just like for every other door in the building. Further proof that there was nothing to fear.

Of course the lights didn't work. How many times had she asked for the problem to be fixed? Four? Five? Did she have to do every small thing by herself in this place?

Haruka found the annoyance a far better companion than fear and she latched onto it like a lifeline.

Irrational as they might have been, her fears were no less scary.

She walked down the stairs in the dark, trying not to stumble over something and break her neck. God, if something happened to her in there, no one would find her for weeks.

_**THUMP!**_

All right, she was getting closer to whatever was making that noise. The basement was dark but it seemed that there was a source of light somewhere, because she could see a little bit in there.

_**THUMP!**_

Definitely getting closer, now. It was also getting brighter the more she went in.

... This was bad. Every cell in her body told Haruka to turn back the way she came while she could.

Curiosity and pride together won over her instinct, and she continued.

The heating room was in front of her. The door, slightly ajar slammed against it frame every now and then, making the noise she heard. The movement of air that caused it to swing was no doubt due by the different temperature in the two rooms.

Nothing to be worried about after all. As usual, there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for any event. Somebody from the maintenance had been there and forgotten to close the door and turn off the light.

Making her worry over such ridiculous thing... they would hear about this come morning!

She opened the door to flick off the light and suddenly she wished she had listened to her instincts a few moments before.

Blood.

It stained the walls, the floor and even the ceiling. Pieces of flesh... human flesh and bones were scattered here and there. From a table the eyes, just the eyes, of a person stared at her lifelessly.

Her stomach churned.

_'Run away,'_ her instinct blared._ 'Run away, run away, run away!'_

This time Haruka decided to listen. A pity that it was already too late.

She turned. Half a step into a mad run she stopped in place.

**_Ssh-zk!_**

A sharp feeling in her abdomen. Cold sharp metal puncturing her flesh. The pain didn't register for a moment over the absurdity of what she was seeing.

"Why?" she whispered, blood coming to her mouth as she did so.

Why was he there? Why was he doing this? Why to her after all she had done for him?

Why? Why? Why?

There was no answer to be found in those familiar, yet malicious eyes.

* * *

><p>A drawing made by a child. An innocent image if not for the fact that it was the final piece of a much bigger, much grimmer picture. Three names, a single sentence.<p>

'Mom.'

'Dad.'

'Kenta.'

Shirou shivered.

_'He lost his mother when he was very young,'_ Aihara-san had told him, just the previous day.

_'Did you see anyone with a wound like this?'_ Caren said, referring to the bleeding cut on her nose.

_'I'm the ally of justice,'_ the boy told him boldly; the band-aid across his nose making him the sterotypical child and now suddenly assuming an entirely different significance.

Shirou almost heard the click of the last piece of the puzzle falling into place.

"Caren," he said, horrified. "I think I know who the person being possessed is. It's the boy. It's Shirata Kenta."

* * *

><p>"Why?" she asked with blood coming out of her mouth. "Why... Kenta?"<p>

He didn't answer, or rather he didn't hear. He was looking but not seeing. Moving but not acting. A marionette held by invisible strings, played by a dark cold hand.

She didn't know anything of this, of course. She only knew what she saw, and it was reflected in her eyes.

Fear. Pain. Betrayal.

"Please... don't," she begged and he really did want to listen for once. Instead, with a strength that didn't belong to a child, he twisted the black sword so that the blade was facing upward, severing the fingers she had instinctively curled around the offending metal. They fell on the floor with small thuds and rolled away grotesquely.

"Iaaargh!" she shrieked, trying to hold the sword in place. A futile effort. "Please... Kenta... please..."

Blood splattered on his face, but his expression didn't change in the slightest.

"Kenta... I... I lov…"

His arm moved upward. The blade followed, cutting through her intestines, then the ribcage, a lung, her heart, and finally coming out of the shoulder in a great spray of blood.

"Gghgghhhrll!"

It wasn't quite a scream-more likely just the sound of air and blood being forced out of her throat. Haruka's arms flayed about madly, her mouth gushed blood one last time and her eyes rolled in the back of head. All strength abandoned her and she fell in a pool of her own blood and entrails. She twitched about for a moment and then she lay still, never to move again.

Haruka's blood dribbled down along the length of the blade, still held upward, onto the hand of her unaware murderer.

He blinked, a bit of light returning to his eyes. Just enough to burn into his mind the image before him. His breath quickened. A tear formed at the corner of his eye.

A scream tore through the night.

"NEEEEEE-SAAAN!"

* * *

><p>Satsuki lay on her bed at the Tohno mansion, wide-awake. Again, sleep evaded her; again, the hunger prickled at the back of her throat.<p>

She used to read vampire novels, the romantic kind that most girls her age liked. Now, she swore to herself multiple times, that if she ever got her hands on a copy she would use her new strength to turn it into confetti.

She needed a distraction from this semi-reclusion. Shirou told her that when his business in Misaki was done, they would both go to his place in Fuyuki, where she would be free to move as she liked.

Satsuki was looking forward to it, although that wasn't the way she imagined moving in with a boy.

Speaking of which, hadn't they gotten pretty close, Shirou and her?

She didn't know what to think of that, honestly. At times it was very embarrassing. Sleeping in his arms, being seen naked, not to mention drinking his blood repeatedly and saving each other's lives; there was hardly getting any closer than that without... better not think about that.

But they were close, and with little to no embarrassment in spite of the circumstances. Shirou's presence was reassuring to the fledgling vampire. As the person who had any clue what to do with her, she clung to his every word. In spite of that, it didn't feel like Shirou was burdened by it, nor did she feel like Shirou cared for any recognition or repayment from her.

Tohno-kun always gave off a strange impression, a sense of something beyond human that kept her at distance. Shirou was similar in a way, but instead of pushing her away it drew her closer. A scary thought in its own right.

Still, she wondered whether she was blessed or cursed. After all, each time she felt hopeless and lost, there had been a knight in shining armor coming to her rescue. The price for it had been an unrequited crush the first time and vampirism the second. Hardly a fair deal, especially the latter, but if one considered the alternatives, wasn't she getting off light, somehow?

Hard to say... and a futile exercise in any case. She was bored out of her mind, that much was true.

She needed a distraction, badly.

Suddenly, Shirou's cell rang right beside her. The teen vampire nearly leapt out of the bed in surprise.

Unknown ID, it read on the display. Shirou left her his phone, in case he needed to call her and so that she could take any calls from home directed at him. He told her that he had explained her situation, so anyone who called would know why he wasn't the one answering his phone.

But the caller wasn't Shirou's place or any known number. At this hour, who could it be?

She picked it up.

"Yes?"

"Satsuki, it's Shirou. I need your help."

The frantic tone of his voice made Satsuki regret ever wishing for that distraction.

"What do you need?" she asked promptly.

"There's a phone in the corridor near our rooms. I saw a phone book there earlier. I need you to look up the number and address of one Aihara Haruka. Can you do it for me?"

"I'm on it, wait a minute."

She snuck out of her room, ran to the phone as silently as she could and hastily retreated back to her room.

"Okay, I'm back. Aihara Haruka, Aihara Haruka... got it!"

She read him the listed number and address, twice to avoid mistakes.

"Thank you, Satsuki."

"W-wait! Shirou what's going on? Are you okay?"

"Everything's fine. I just hope we find her at her place or else... what? What are you talking about?"

Satsuki heard chatter in the background as well as the noise of a running engine.

"Shirou?"

"Yumizuka Satsuki, I suppose?" a feminine voice asked.

"W-who is this? Where's Shirou?"

"He's right beside me, driving. As for me, I'm Caren Ortensia, an emissary of the Holy Church. I would like to ask for your cooperation."

"I object," she faintly heard Shirou in the background. "She doesn't need to be exposed to any more danger."

"It's not your call to make, Emiya-san. Besides, we are short on time. Listen, Yumizuka-san, would you be so kind as to give us your support? "

"I'm... I'm not sure."

"Your collaboration would make your standing with my organization a bit more, let's say, pleasant."

"If...if it's something I can do, then..."

"Good. This address you just gave us, I would need you to go there. I don't need you to do anything but to see if there's anything out of place. Strange movements of people or really anything that you would consider abnormal, then report it to us."

"Only that?"

"Yes, remain unseen and don't expose yourself to unnecessary dangers. If anything comes up, anything at all, retreat to safety and contact us. Are we clear?"

"Yes but... how am I supposed to get there at this hour? It will take me forever."

"Forgive my bluntness, Yumizuka-san, but you are a vampire now. You should be able to move around swiftly and unseen."

"Oh," Satsuski said, recalling her superhuman strength. "Sorry, I forgot about that."

"That's quite understandable. Now, I believe Emiya-san is eager to speak with you again."

"Satsuki!" Shirou called into the phone. "You don't have to do anything, you hear me? It's dangerous out there!"

"N-no. I want to help. I've only been a burden to everyone until now, so... I'm going to do it. Please don't stop me."

"It's dangerous, Satsuki," he reiterated.

"I know, but..."

"You don't know the half of it! Arcueid Brunestud is in town. She's the Goddess of vampires for all intents and purposes. She's one of the most powerful beings in the world, if not the most powerful in absolute terms."

"Eeeh?" she wailed, now genuinely terrified.

"If she sets her eyes on you there's no safe enough place in the world to hide, you hear? Stay right where you are and don't go out."

"I-I- I can't!" she cried into the phone. "Shirou, I can't! I'm scared to the bone, but somebody could to get hurt if I don't, right? If... If I just look the other way when I have the power to help, how am I supposed to call myself a human anymore?"

"... You are a far better person than I am, Satsuki," Shirou confessed. "I'm glad that I've gotten to know you. All right, listen up then: this is a recon mission; remain hidden at all costs, no matter what happens. At the first sign of trouble, you get the hell ou, are we clear? Call me as soon as you get to your destination; meanwhile Caren and I are going to the investigate the museum."

"Okay, I've got it. You can count on me!"

"I know I can. Stay safe, Satsuki."

Satsuki hung up and put away the phone.

She was scared. The rational part of her mind questioned her own sanity. She meant what she said. With nothing but time on her hands, she decided that she would make something good out of her situation. She had no desire to be a hero like Shirou was, however if she wanted to preserve that little humanity had left, she couldn't afford to look the other way.

But that wasn't the end of it. There was another side of her now. A part that felt at home in the darkness; that felt uneasy with hiding when she should be hunting.

Satsuki was aware of this part of herself and rightfully feared. However, she also knew that she would have to live with it, likely for longer than anything else.

For everyone's sake, it would be better if she learned how to get along with it sooner rather than later.

Mind made up, she snuck out of the window like she did before and rushed to the edge of the property. She stared at the tall wall; an obstacle that no ordinary human could hope to climb without aid.

Satsuki flexed her legs and flew past it with a single leap, landing on the other side on all fours.

Powerful, that's how she felt as of that moment. Her body was light as a feather, her muscles were relaxed but still supported her in ways they never did, or could, before being turned.

It was dangerous, she knew as much. Satsuki was naive in many ways, but she wasn't stupid. Power was a dangerous thing and she knew it.

It's wasn't like she had any prior experience with it, but she did read a bit and in stories power was a corrupting force. Perhaps it was silly, using moral lessons learned from fiction in real life but maybe not all that much, considering how parts of fiction turned out to be quite real. In any case, discretion was the better part of valor when dealing with the unknown. Such was the wisdom of a scaredy-cat.

Resolve made, she sprinted toward the city with long, fast strides. The place she was supposed to reach wasn't close. Even at her current speed she would need to take a number of detours to remain unseen.

Or would she?

In the first place, roads were things made by humans for humans. She no longer had the limitations that made roads necessary. If she needed to go somewhere, she had both the ability and the power to get there in a straight line.

At the end of the slope, Satuski accelerated instead of slowing down. The road forked, left and right, so she continued straight ahead, jumping toward the building in front of her.

She clung to the railing of the first floor balcony, and with both hands propelled herself upward to the second, repeating the act until she was on the roof.

She looked down, amazed by her own actions. Her heart was hammering in her chest, but not from fear or exertion, but rather from pure, child-like excitement.

Maybe, just maybe, being a vampire was a little bit cool.

Grinning, Satsuki set off toward her objective. If she were stuck with the downsides of vampirism, she would at least enjoy the upsides.

* * *

><p>Saying that Emiya Shirou wasn't happy would be a huge understatement.<p>

He had been in Misaki for a handful of days and things went from bad to FUBAR in spite of his best attempts. He'd be chewing on the car's steering wheel from frustration if he weren't in the middle of driving the damn thing.

To think that just a few hours before he was right there, with Kenta in his reach, and he failed to notice anything at all, enamored as he was with playing hero inside his head.

He told Kenta that one couldn't rightfully call themselves a hero if they ignored the plight of the people around them… he betrayed those words right as he spoke them.

Incompetent, utter failure.

What right did someone like him have to be a hero?

Useless! Years of preparation, both physical and thaumaturgical, and he neglected the thing that mattered the most: the importance of not looking away.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

What's the point of being strong if you can't even see what's in front of you?

"It's not your fault, Emiya-san." As if reading his self-deprecations, Caren tried to console him. "It's the limit of being human."

"I know," he replied. "Rationally, I know. It doesn't make it any easier to accept, though."

"You are already trying harder than most. Don't blame yourself."

"I have to. Even if you were right, I cannot afford the complacence of thinking I've done enough."

Focused on the road as he was, Shirou didn't see Caren's smile at his side.

"You are one of a kind, Emiya-san. I am glad that I've gotten to know you."

Mimicking the words he used with Satsuki earlier, Caren sought to tell him that he should give himself more credit.

Shirou didn't spare a single thought for that. In the first place, he cared neither for acknowledgment or appreciation. The only thing that mattered at any time was saving people. Either he succeeded or he failed. Just having tried, no matter of great the effort invested into it, was nothing more than an empty platitude that held no value whatsoever to him.

When it came down to it, no sane human being, regardless of how kind, selfless and heroic they were, could truly hope to understand Emiya Shirou.

Therefore, no amount of emotional support or approval could give him any respite from himself.

All he could do was push the car's accelerator even further and speed through the night, hoping to be fast enough.

* * *

><p>Satsuki soared through the air, landing on a rooftop and immediately taking off for another.<p>

The city was different than what it used to be, or at least it appeared different through the eyes of a vampire. She could tell where everyone was, not because she could see them but because she could feel them. Inside their homes, people shined like beacons to her sixth sense. No matter where they hid, she was sure she could find them.

Briefly she wondered if this was how monsters in horror movies always found where their victims were hiding.

Then there were other presences that burned much brighter than the others.

To her left, around the place where the park would be, there was a powerful presence, enormous and fearsome. Satsuki didn't know what that was, but if she were to bet on it, her odds would be on that Brunestud person Shirou warned her about. She'd keep a good distance from that one.

Then there was another source, but it was strange. It felt black and wavered wildly, like a flame trying to consume everything it came into contact with, but cold like a winter wind. Dark and twisted, a bit like the way she felt when she first woke up to her new nature.

It was nowhere close in power to the presence at the park; in fact it didn't hold a candle to it, but its maliciousness was on a completely different scale.

If she had to make a choice between the two, she'd rather run toward Brunestud. She would certainly be killed, but she didn't want to imagine what the black thing would do to her.

Not having to make that choice, she steered away from both. Besides, she had other things to do. Shirou was waiting for her to give him news and she knew that the longer it took her to call him back, the more worried he'll get.

Honestly, he worried and fussed so much that it was almost like he was her boyfriend...

No, that was a way too dangerous line of thought. She had more pressing concerns to worry about.

She leapt again toward her destination, but in spite of everything her thoughts drifted to more pleasant things.

Vampire or human, she was still a fifteen year old girl...

* * *

><p>Shirou pulled the car to the curb on the opposite side of the road to the museum.<p>

The building was silent with no trace of life whatsoever.

"Are you sure it was a good idea to come here instead of going to Aihara's place ourselves?" Shirou asked getting out of the car.

The list of places where they knew where to look for Kenta, before having to turn to a citywide search, was remarkably short. If he wasn't at his own home in the middle of the night, the only two other places they knew of were his caretaker's place or the museum.

At night, one would think to look for a child in the place where he slept, however they figured that if he was resting, and as such not being a threat to anyone, Satsuki could verify as much with relatively contained risks.

On the other hand, if he was not resting and his body was being used by the wraith, then the sprit of the blacksmith needed a place to exercise his foul craft.

In that regard, the museum was the best place to start. Deserted at night and conveniently stocked with the blacksmith's tools.

"Your concern is understandable Emiya-san," Caren answered, "but this is our best shot right now. I think I..."

"Caren?"

"He's here," she said flatly, turning her head to show the spontaneous cut that had just formed on her cheek. "Let's go."

"What? No. You won't get any closer than this. Your body is already showing symptoms..."

Caren sighed and dropped her head. She understood where Emiya was coming from. He, however, didn't understand her.

"Emiya-san, look at my body, please," she said, hands unbuttoning her shirt and revealing the skin underneath.

"What are you doing at a time like this?" Shirou hissed, more outraged than embarassed, pointedly looking elsewhere.

"Look at me, Emiya-san." Caren tone was firm and held no tone of teasing. Forcefully, Shirou turned to look.

Caren's shirt was open, breasts barely hinted between the folds of her clothes. Nonetheless, the brief patch of skin exposed under the streetlight was a crisscross of faint and less faint scars.

He looked away again.

"Forgive me," he said. "I let my personal concerns cloud my judgment."

"Don't apologize to me for being worried of other people's well being. Just know that I, like you, have decided to live my life for the sake of others."

"I get it," he nodded. "You know how far you can push yourself, so you call the shots. I'll be watching your back."

"The objective is, of course, to exorcise the boy, but in order to completely free the wraith we need the original blade. That is its true link to this world."

"Got it. Let's move, then."

Caren walked toward the entrance with Shirou following right behind, bow at the ready.

Tonight, they would put an end to a nightmare.

"They are here," said the man with glazed eyes in a mockery of his own voice.

"I knew it," the man replied. "From the moment I saw her, I knew that they'd come again. History has a way of repeating itself."

"Well then, let us greet our guests as they deserve."

Around them, three rows of armors on each side of the room stirred in response.

* * *

><p>Satsuki slid to a halt on a rooftop, causing a few tiles to break under her weight.<p>

"Oops!" she winced, looking at the damage she had caused. She wondered if the Church paid for collateral damage, or if they just pretended they had nothing to do with it.

She always had such silly, stray thoughts.

She slid down the side of the building, digging her fingers through the brick wall to slow her descent.

With the cover of darkness she ran to the end of the alley, looking left and right before darting across the road and past the wall of house.

She landed mostly silently on the other side, and there she remained crouched in the shadows.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes. Time went by but in spite of her focus she felt nothing coming from the house.

Surreptitiously, she approached the building, doing her best to stay out of sight.

Nothing.

In the surrounding houses she could tell there were people about, both awake and asleep, but this place was cold, empty.

She didn't knew how much she could trust this sixth sense, so she peered through every window on both floors only to have her suspicions confirmed.

The house was empty.

Well, that was anticlimactic. Not that Satsuki hoped differently, but... well, the novelty of suddenly being thrust into the role of the heroine gave her a small thrill.

None of that, now. She picked up Shirou's cell phone and called back the last number.

One trill followed another and finally the line went dead. She tried again and after a couple of trills she heard the line being picked up.

However, what she heard on the other end of the line wasn't a voice.

_**CLANG! SWISSH! THUMP! CLANG!**_

"Shirou? Ortensia-san?"

Muffled voices, muffled shouts. Grunts of pain and the sound of many heavy feet and then a finally shout.

"CAREN! Watch out!"

Then the line went dead.

Satsuki looked at the phone with dread, biting her lip.

She had done her part. This was beyond her ability to help.

Certainly, anything else besides going right back to the mansion was a very bad idea.

With anybody else, this conclusion would produce obvious results.

Yumizuka Satsuki, however, didn't have the best track record when it came to avoiding bad ideas.

Bad luck is often of one's own making.

* * *

><p><strong>Published: 02.25.15<strong>  
><strong>Beta: RavingScholar<strong>


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